


Taste and scent

by csiribee



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Blind Character, Blogging, Cooking, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Love, M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 27,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csiribee/pseuds/csiribee
Summary: Baze has a coffee shop and a motorbike. Antisocial as ever.Chirrut has a restaurant critic blog. Often chooses small, ethnic restaurants for his reviews, although he covers all types of cuisine.They start to talk to eachother via chat under nicknames. Will they find eachother in real life?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm not supposed to wright two fics in the same time, but the idea hit me - so here you can see the result of some (many) sleepless nights.
> 
> There were lots of other fics about Chirrut and Baze cooking, or having a blog about cooking - so I get inspired by them - thank you.
> 
> It seems I can't imagine Baze without a motorbike... Hm. 
> 
> The fic is almost ready, but I have to edit it - hope it will be a daily update.

“Hey Baze!” Bodhi greeted him looking up from the laptop placed on the counter. He is not working. Again. Noticed the fact Baze but kept it for himself. “Did you read the new blog post of @gourmet? It’s fantastic. And hilarious!” he almost shouted with excitement.

“About the new chinese restaurant downtown?” of course he read it. First thing in the morning to check if there is a new article on the guy’s blog # tasteandscent . “It was like I was there with him. The atmosphere, the sound of the other guests at the other tables, the touch of the furniture, the smoothness of the tablecloth, the smell of the food, the smile of the waiters. It was so telling the way he wrote it.” Baze read every article at least twice and there were some lines he could quoted by heart.

Bodhi laughed. “And the last sentences is epique. ‘ _ I almost forgot, the food could have been better.’ _ \- he says. I didn’t even noticed that he didn’t mentioned the food at all until this last sentence.” Bodhi grins on Keyto, the other barista of the small café Baze owns.

“You say: him.” Keyto made a small pause before serving the next client. “How do you know? @gourmet can be a she as well. There is no picture and nobody knows the real name.”

“Nooo.” cried out Bodhi and Baze in the same time. “I’m sure he is a man. Now get on your feet, Bodhi, and serve the guests! The place is full.” growled Baze at Bodhi rounding the counter heading to the kitchen to check what is going on inside.

He pushed in the kitchen’s door to see that his pastry cook has done a good job and was ready for the day. All the snacks, cookies and cakes enough till the afternoon were there waiting to be served. They could start the preparation for the second dose. He sighed with satisfaction. The coffee shop was going well and earned more and more customers every day. For a few months he has been flirting with the idea of opening a second one. But first things first.

He tied his apron and put on the hairnet. Before making the usual cakes he wanted to try something new. He got inspiration from the coconut dim sum receipt that @gourmet shared after the restaurant critic. He couldn’t get rid of the image of a coconut cake  since. He took out a bowl and started to figure out the ingredients.

                                                                  ***********

 

The winter came closer every day but the weather was capricious in this November. One day it was freezing cold, on other days like this, it was almost spring. The engine of the motorbike hummed forcefully as Baze drove out from the garage. It is rare in the Upper West Side of the city to have an underground parking that came with the building but he was searching for that kind of lodging for years and finally he was lucky. He  deeply immersed in his thoughts and in the beautiful roar of his bike he almost missed the guy who just stepped in front of the parking’s door. 

When he noticed the other man it was too late. “Watch out!” Baze cried out as he pushed the brake and pulled the first wheel aside. The guy recoiled in time but lost his balance and felt on the ground. His yoga bag slipped off his shoulder and all the fruits from his paper bag rolled apart. Baze recognised him, it was the guy moving in last week to the same floor.

“Hey, you should be more careful. It says clearly ‘parking exit’ and the red light is on!” shouted Baze. He was still panicking of the first fright. He could have hit this man. “Are you blind or what?” he killed the engine. The rush of adrenaline was wearing off. The other man rose on one knee reaching out uncertainly for his things. He pitched up his head and turned his astonishing whitey blue eyes toward Baze direction who flinched. The guy was actually blind.

“You almost hit me!  _ You _ should watch better!” nattered as he tried to pick up his bag and cane. Baze realised that he has to help otherwise the guy wouldn’t have been able to gather the fruits that ran in every direction. “Let me help you.” he groaned and put the bag in the other man’s hand. “Hold this, will you?” Baze quickly collected three apples, a pear, a mango and two guavas to put them back in the bag.

“Here you go.” he watched the man standing up. The last time he saw him only from distance talking with the men of the moving company. At least now he could take a better look. Short black hair, bratty face with those incredibly blue eyes, a light coat above his white T-shirt revealing his toned muscles on his chest and simple blue jeans. Nothing special but Baze had to admit he liked very much what he saw.

“Thank you!” came the reply not warm but not dry neither. Probably he was still under the impact of being almost hit. He reached his cane in front of him and turned to continue his way precisely in the direction where Baze’s bike was parking risking to bump into it. Baze made an irate sound. This guy is impossible, wandering like that! ”Hey, watch out! ” he called out moving in his direction. 

The other man halted in confusion. “There’s my bike!” Baze complained. “You have to be more careful walking around when you cannot see!” The guy looked back above his shoulder and made a little “tsk” sound. He reached out with his cane to tap out the contour of the bike and decided to round it.

He stepped down from the sidewalk to land right in front of a fast approaching cab which begun to blow it’s horn. Baze acted without thinking. “Hey, watch out!” he cried out umpteenth time that day, grabbed the other’s shoulder and pulled him back involuntary pressing him against his own body protectively. He noticed that the guy’s hair smelled like ginger.

The man jerked back pushing himself away with one hand on Baze’s chest. “Don’t toze me to and fro!” he frowned. “It’s not enough you almost hit me? I don’t like to be dragged.” 

The imperative tone made Baze forget his marvel about the scent of the man as he boiled in an instant. “I just try to help.” he said huffy.

“You don’t have to!” the other stepped back and rose his head to look directly in Baze’s face searching. “I can handle things ninety percent of the cases.”

Baze didn’t understand why but all of his body filled up with warmth as he looked in the man’s eyes. He didn’t understand the feeling and that turned him more angry. “Well, obviously you cannot! Or walking around is in the ten percent you can’t handle.” 

“You don’t have to be such an asshole, you know? _You_ put your bike in the way.” said the other defiantly.  

Now Baze was really pissed off. “You better ask somebody to show you around, cause you’re gonna walk under a car or worse and the poor guy would be blamed.” 

 “Oh, thank you for being so worried, now go fuck yourself!” he turned and rounded the bike more carefully listening to approaching cars, as Baze could tell, and continued his way to the main door of their building. 

Baze sat back on his bike and fired the engine up. He didn’t want to ruin this beautiful day. Inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. He had to admit to himself that he really shouldn’t have been so harsh with that guy. First it wasn’t his fault that he came up too fast from the parking without stopping as he used to. In the second time, the sun was shining bright in the clear blue sky, and this guy just couldn’t see it. Baze put on his sunglasses, hit the road and let the wind blow out of his mind the whole affair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is @gourmet and second meetings.

Chirrut was walking toward the subway station thinking about this new yoga studio, Jyn suggested, a few stations away from his new flat. He was satisfied. The apartment was just what he was searching for, the neighborhood was fantastic with lots of parks around and the yoga studio was receptive, no need to convince them he can follow the advanced sessions despite of his disability. 

 

Winter irrevocably set his foot and it was already cold with the smell of snow in the air. He smiled as counted his quick footsteps. Five hundred seventy-four, this is the corner where he should turn to the right. He stopped and sniffed in the air. Three times he passed by here and three times that luring smell of coffee attracted him. He wasn’t in a hurry so he turned to the left to find the source. He walked carefully the unfamiliar path sweeping with his cane in front of him. 

The smell became stronger and stronger, after about three hundred steps he arrived in front of a place where he heard people chatting, mugs clinking, chairs moving, doorbell ringing, just like as a front of coffee shop. He stopped tilting his right ear toward the sound to better catch when somebody stepped closer.

 “Can I help? Do you want to sit outside under the heaters? Or come inside? I show you around.” he offered and was rewarded with a happy smile. 

 “Thank you! It smells already wonderful.” Chirrut chirped. “Do you have some special blends?” he asked agaze. 

 “We have only special blends!” Chirrut found the man was in his twenties and was proud of the coffee they sold. “We have a testing panel. I think you will love it.” Chirrut put his hand in the other man’s elbow and followed waiting for discover whatever was the testing panel. They stopped in front of something that smelled a lots of things in the same time: coffee, spices and other flavors.

 “This was the idea of the boss.” the young man said. “You can discover how our blends are made. Here, in your right there is a basket full of raw coffee beans we use. Next to it the roasted ones. In the shelf above you can smell the spices we use for the different blends. All handmade.” 

Chirrut stood there charmed already, then he dipped his fingers between the raw coffee beans and he had to close his eyes on the feeling and smiled as wide that seemed impossible. The young man chuckled and said “I knew you would love it! I leave you here, just tell me when you made your choice for the coffee.  _ And _ we have some cakes as well. I’ll keep an eye on you.” and he left.

 Chirrut continued to experience all the sensation that the installation could offer: ran his fingers on the beans, the spices, rose them to his nose, rub them together next to his ear. By the time he sated his senses he found that other people joined him copying his gestures and chatting all around. The owner of the coffee must be very creative and sensitive person, he made a small remark to himself. 

He chose a cinnamon cafe latte and took place at a table. While sipping the hot drink, in his head he was already writing the post to his blog # tasteandscent .

 

  _I found a spot that takes hand blended coffee on an adventure. Rogue Café isn’t really a coffee shop. To be fair, it doesn’t even try to be a coffee shop. It doesn’t serve coffee, snacks and cakes but sweet dreams._  

_ After the enchanting smell made you stop you make your way through the front door. It looks like a coffee shop though: inviting tables, buzz of guests and the pleasant sizzle of coffee machines. Might one of the baristas serve you something delicious and  savory? Of course, but you are on your way to a different sort of experience. A few steps later you find a place, maybe by the bench that runs the length of the walls. You are seduced by the names of the pastries. You order a cake. The cake makes you dream. _

 

He wrapped his long fingers around the mug and let the hum of the place fill his senses. It was a perfect day.

 

 

                                              *********************************

  
Baze lied across the bed and slept sweetly. He got home late the day before. @gourmet’s post about the Rogue café appeared Friday morning and the café became chock full in the afternoon and the whole Sunday. They had to make extra dose of cakes and snacks that asked extra hours of his pastry cook and made super busy both baristas. 

The crowd didn’t hold Bodhi back from reading the article aloud at least ten times a day. Baze couldn’t blame him as himself read it at least twice every hour. He just couldn’t believe it. @gourmet was there, in the café, and nobody knew who he was. He should have been there Wednesday or Thursday so Bodhi and Keyto tried to guess remembering some of the faces, but there were no real clue.

 “You should write to him and say thank you for coming and for the article and the free publicity he made for us.” Bodhi tapped his shoulder after he read aloud once more his favorite sentences of the post. 

“It’s not my piece of cake.” he looked up from his laptop sitting at the table in the corner a few minutes before closing the shop. “I don’t have an account on Facebook.” 

“I don’t understand how can you have such a successful coffee shop being as anti-talented in social media.” bantered him Keyto. “You know that the Rogue has his own page?” 

“Yes, of course, and it is you and Bodhi who run it. But it’s too impersonal to write from there.” 

“You can write a direct message to him on his blog.” Keyto showed the page to Baze. “You see?  You just have to give your name.” 

“I don’t want to give my name. I don’t trust in this social media thing.” Baze opposed. 

“You should have born three hundred years ago, Baze, I tell you. Actually you can give any kind of name. And the answer will land in your mailbox, but the address will still not be visible.” 

“Oh?” Baze had to admit to himself at least that he was better in the kitchen than on the net. So he left a message. 

He just couldn’t believe that the guy’s blog made so many people to come to Rogue. But they just kept coming which made everyone busy and it seemed that it won’t stop. So he sent everyone at home after they closed the night before and arranged everything alone. He checked the income of the day and closed it, then he started to prepare the cakes for the next day. He left 4 o’clock in the morning leaving to Bodhi to open the shop next day - or better to say, this day.

 He was sleeping in his bed when he heard the doorbell ringing. He woke with a start and let a painful groan into the pillows not willing to move. But the doorbell was ringing again and he got out of the bed sullenly. “Better the house is burning at least at fuckin’ o’clock in the morning.” he grumbled. 

He floundered out half asleep, shirtless in his pajama pants and flung the door open to see his blind neighbour he almost hit the other day. “You again?” he snapped on his crabby, scratchy and hoarse early morning voice. “What do you want?” 

“Good morning!” the other man prattled. “I moved in a few days ago. My name is Chirrut Îmwe. I just wanted to introduce myself.” 

Baze could only see the man’s toothy, too bright smile and flashing blue eyes through the gap of his eyelids. “Yeah? And _the hell_ do you want?” he repeated the question uncomprehendingly.  

“I am the new neighbour…” came the hesitant reply as the man tilted his head to capture Baze’s signals. “...and I just wanted to say hello.” 

“I was sleeping.” Baze continued to grouch. “You woke me up.” 

The new neighbour smile grew larger. “Oh, I am sorry. It is ten o’clock already and the other neighbours were up. So I…” Baze didn’t wait him to finish just slammed the door and reeled back to his bed. 

“Incredible this guy…,” he mumbled to himself. “What the hell is he thinking? Who cares if he moved in or not? Especially in the morning.” Baze plopped back to the bed but he was already awake. He rubbed his face with a sigh. If he was awake he could go and check the shop after all every hand is needed. 

He knew that the blog post’s impact will last only for a few days, for a few weeks if he’s lucky. But if the number of the customers increases just a little after this he could earn some extra money and finally have the source to open a second café. He would hire one more cook and ask Bodhi to manage Rogue. He shook his head. “Stop dreaming Baze!” he said to himself, but he could not fight back his smile. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where the chatting starts

Chirrut felt the shift of air as the door smacked and he blinked in disbelief. After a few seconds he turned and smoothly glided his fingers along the wall as he walked back to his apartment. At least the Organa family with the twins were lovely, and the two other tenant on the floor was kind as well.

He stopped in front of his door. The man’s voice was familiar but he didn’t recognise it. And he said ‘ _you again_ ’ so they’ve already met. He recalled the events of the last few days. A sudden memory filled his mind and a grin appeared on his face as he tilted his head up. The man on the motorbike! It seemed he was grumpy all the time. This fact didn’t discourage Chirrut, he knew that he can be even more charming to win the man. 

He crouched on the corner of his couch and opened his laptop. “Open #tasteandscent blog!” he commanded the machine. “Read the new personal messages!” and turned his right ear closer attentively. 

There was a message from Cathy who asked for a detail of the last receipt on the blog, another one from newyorklover44 who shared his or her love for cinnamon latte, a thai restaurant that invited him to pop by and write his opinion, Gregory who told how much he loves his blog and Sarah who said thank you because she and her fiancé tried one of the restaurants he proposed. The last message was from bmrogueone.

  

**[Dear gourmet,**  

**I’m writing to you to say thank you for the wonderful article you wrote on my coffee shop, the Rogue, last day.**

**It’s no secret that we jumped out of our skin when we saw that you chose us. My team and me are great fan of your blog. We read every post of you and as for me, I tried some of the receipts you shared for my own and my friend’s benefit.**  

**I always read with pleasure your articles but this time I really felt that you spoke from my soul. Not only because you had this post about my coffee shop - of course I am proud of it as to my baristas and pastry cook. I have to tell you that I wish people could see this place in the same way as you do.**  

**I wish that everybody were enchanted by the scent, the taste, the sight and the atmosphere of the café when they come in. I wish that tasting one of my coffees or eating one of the cakes would recall memories - as it happened to you. I am glad that there is somebody who understands me - even if just a little part of me.**  

**I am sure that you receive many mails and probably not able to answer but I still wanted to tell you how grateful I am.**  

**Thank you,**

**BM, RogueOne**  

**PS: I asked all my colleagues if they have any clue who you are, but they didn’t know. So I wish you return to find it out and perhaps taste the coco-flamingo cookie which was inspired by the the dim sum recipe you shared the other day.]**

 

 Chirrut listened to the message once again, than again. He received thank-you messages from restaurants he posted about but they were usually schematic letters. This was different. This was honest, written by somebody who wanted to really share his feelings. 

 

**[Dear bmrogueone,**  

**Thank you for your whole-hearted words. It’s always a pleasure to hear that I can give something more to my readers as just tips where to spend their evenings and joy to the owners if the critic is positif.**  

**I try to always be honest with my posts as I did when I was writing about your café. It is really a peaceful and comforting place where I felt that I can hide a bit from the city.**  

**Don’t get me wrong, I like New York. I like every corner of it, the buzz, the life. But sometimes it’s overwhelming to me. It’s good to know that there is a tiny place when I find shelter and I can feel like home.**  

**Usually I don’t receive as much mails and messages one might think. So please help me to satisfy my desperate need of feedback by telling me which recipe you tried and how did you like it, if you wish to share.**  

**Have a nice day,**

**gourmet.**  

**PS: I am sure that I will return to Rogue and try that cookie with the fancy name.  Coco-flamingo? Really? But I wish to to keep my anonymity, just like you.]**

 

In the next hours Chirrut checked some statistics and other datas about the blog. He went through some of the facebook comments, but it was always hard to follow through the textreader so he just stopped and sat in silence for a while. 

He was restless. There was a familiar pressure in his chest that wasn’t physical. It was longing. Chirrut knew it so well. Yearning for things he cannot have anymore and for things he didn’t dare to ask for. But this time his desire had a more simple and more definite object. An answer from the owner of the café. He instructed the computer to open the blog and the personal messages. He couldn’t believe his ears. There _was_ an answer.  

**[Dear gourmet,**

******I’m not good in the messaging thing, so I can only hope that my answer finds you.**  

**I tried lots of your receipt and I liked them all, although I always changed something. Forgive it to me it must be an occupational hazard, but I’m sure you understand that. I have no favorites. What I like is they are simple but there is a sensibility in them. An extra ingredient or a small trick that makes the taste special.**  

**I share also your feelings about New York. As it gets colder every day this winter I cannot wait  to see the city to transform: ice skaters at Rockefeller Center,  the Christmas trees and Santas everywhere, the Jazz festival, the snow in Central Park. I know that they are cliches but this is winter in New York! There is no place I would rather live but sometimes I have to escape to clear out my head.**  

**I wonder what your favorite place can be beside the restaurants of course. I am sure that you are fond of parks and eating a hotdog in one of their corner.  Is it true? ]**

 

Chirrut heart was fluttering as he read again and again the short and casual words. Why was that? Why was his heart beating stronger? It was just a message from a stranger. Still. It meant more to him and he hoped that it meant more to the other. 

He jumped from the couch as the doorbell rang. He completely forgot he waited for Cassian, his assistant to come that afternoon. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian appears, little backstory of Chirrut, a surprise and more chat

Cassian brought fresh bread and some vegetables Chirrut needed. He always asked before coming as he knew that Chirrut hated to do the shopping alone. He worked for Chirrut in part time now and do the shopping was just a favor even if Cassian never bought before such weird vegetables like asparagus. 

“Your last post was a real hit, highest reach ever...” started Cassian to talk about business after they settled down next to the huge dining table opening his own laptop. “It could reach even higher if you had put some photos with it….!”

 “Yeah, I just followed my instincts and made a sudden decision. There was nobody with me to take a photo.” Chirrut didn’t mind not taking a photo but he was avare that his readers need it and it sells better the blog. 

“At least I can dazzle the potential new advertisers with these numbers. You should write more posts like that.” changed Cassian the subject. 

Chirrut laughed a bit. “I wish I could always find an inspiring place like that.” he paused because a nervous vibration flooded down from Cassian. “So…” he made a guess “... potential new advertisers, are they many?” 

“Not as much as we need.” said Cassian with a sigh.

 “Oh, I’m sure you will find enough.” waved him down Chirrut with a reassuring smile. “Tell me about the facebook comments. Anything interesting?

 “Chirrut…” leant Cassian closer. 

“You know that is difficult for me to read them…” 

Cassian knew that Chirrut asked for the comments because he simply didn’t want to talk about money. Chirrut never cared much about it which was fine when he got many, but now this wasn’t the case. “Don’t try to change the subject, please. I’m being serious, we have to discuss this.” Chirrut just let out a long unsatisfied sound. “With the income of the blog, the rental fee of your previous flat and the rest of your savings you would last about a year. At this moment the income just covers the higher rent of this new apartment. The much higher rent which is almost the double.”

 “I like this flat.” Chirrut made a sullen grimace. 

“The previous one was cheaper and it was decent.” 

“It was a small, dark pit in the middle of a stone jungle in Brooklyn. Just look around, Cassian, this is cosy, large and is surrounded with everything I like.” 

 Cassian saw on his face that this is not the moment to argue with him, actually it was never the moment, but he had to. “I understand, but you will eat up all what is left from your savings till next spring, two or three month. And then what?”

 Chirrut considered that than a satisfied smile appeared on his face. “So you say I have two or three wonderful month! We’ll figure out something by the time.” he concluded. Cassian always envied this fate in destiny. Before Chirrut went blind he couldn’t decide if he was optimistic, he just didn’t care or he just pretended. However in the last five years the latter was clearly the truth. 

 “If you hadn’t sold the yoga studio…” Cassian didn’t let drop the subject. “You could have asked for a loan…” 

“We’ve gone through that a million times Cassian.” Chirrut didn’t let him finish frowning. “You know that I needed the money and I needed it quickly.  No bank gives loan for a blind man.” he snapped, than added more quietly “I’m sorry that I cannot give you as many work as I used to.”

 “That’s not the point, Chirrut. I’m fine, I have other clients. Don’t worry about me.” he saw that Chirrut’s face totally closed down hided behind his smile. “You have to figure out something very soon.”

 Chirrut reached out and Cassian offered his arm to place his hand on it. “Don’t worry. Everything as it is has to be!” said than with a soothing smile. “What about the facebook comments?” 

Cassian paused for a moment watching Chirrut. He understood that he won’t get better answer today so he turned back to his laptop. “Nothing special. We have the usual flow. The staff of the café shared the post everywhere adding lots of photos. So it answers a bit to the need. They seem to be very pleased and probably they were fan of the blog already.”

 “The owner wrote me a message.” There was a little rush in Chirrut’s voice that made Cassian glance at him. “I show you.” 

Cassian read the change of messages. “He not just wrote a message, you’re chatting.” 

 “I think he’s... nice.” and again, there was that little tremor in his voice that Cassian haven’t heard since years.  

“Let’s check on the Rogue’s official site if he has a photo.” he proposed and Chirrut leant closer in excitement to hear. “Ok, let’s see!” he made some clicks. “O-oh, there is no photo of him. It says: ‘the owner of Rogue café proudly presents the staff.’ There is a photo of a guy named Bodhi, very boyish, Keyto, who is rather sinewy and the pastry cook, a nice woman.” 

“Hmm, I should have met with Bodhi then. He had a gentle, melodic voice.” Chirrut smiled and tilted his head toward Cassian. “No photo. He likes to stay in the background. Interesting.” 

“Perhaps he just looks terrible.” closed the site Cassian with a louder click. 

“Well, not if I would care.” smirked Chirrut tapping his arm. 

“Hey, wait a minute!” bursted out Cassian starring on the screen gaping and shaking Chirrut’s shoulder. 

“What’s that? What do you see?” panicked Chirrut. 

“The New York Times just wrote you mail and they’re inviting you for a meeting!”

 

 

       *********************************

 

**[Hello bmrogueone,**

 

**I’d like to pretend that we are in a conversation for a long time now even though we just started. “Is there a message?” I ask myself. I open my laptop and there it is, a message from you!**  

**You are right, I really like parks. How did you know? Due to the proximity of the green areas I chose the place where I’m living at the moment. I like to wander around and get lost a bit sometimes. I share your love for the snow and all the things about Xmas. But I’m afraid skating is not my piece of cake…**  

**What do you mean by escaping from the city? ]**

  

**[ Hello,**

**Your message just popped up.**

**Are you there? ]**

 

**[ Yes, I’m here. Hi. ]**

 

**[Oh, great. ]**

**[Actually when I want to escape**

**I just go out of the city. I have a motorbike. ]**

 

**[That’s nice.**

**I used to have a bike, too.**

**I loved it, but had to sell it a few years ago.]**

 

**[Sorry, for the bike.**

**What are you doing?]**

 

**[I’m just struggling with my blog with the**

**Teleshop channel in the background. ]**

**[And you?]**

 

**[So you’re going to buy some useless thing**

**that seems to be magical? ]**

**[I’m working too. It’s busy today.]**

 

**[Perhaps a new knife set. It’s very tempting. ]**

 

**[I am sure that you have already an army of it. ]**

 

**[Not as many…]**

**[Tell me! How much?]**

 

**[Five sets. ]**

**[And one more for all the fish. ]**

 

**[I knew! ]**

 

**[I’m sure you understand. I need them all! ]**

 

**[I know.]**

**[I have six.]**

**[And two set of kitchen spoons. ]**

 

**[So we aren’t different. ]**

 

**[Not at all. We are very much alike.]**

**[So you are writing a new post?]**

 

**[Yes, I found a traditional New York style restaurant.]**

 

**[Italian?]**

  **[Isn’t that obvious?]**

 

**[Will you share something with me in advance?]**

 

**[Nope. Shall it be a surprise.]**

**[Can’t wait to read.]**

**[I have to get back to work.]**

**[See you soon.]**

 

Chirrut closed the messenger. He lifted his face slightly to the silver moonlight pouring in from the window, as if he could feel it on his skin. He smiled and recalled the sight of a clear night with full moon and all the stars.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirrut asks help, Baze is grumpier than ever, more chat.

**[Hello bmrogueone,**  

**The snow that fell down this night covers everything and smoothes the noise of the city. I feel like rambling in a dream. But the world doesn’t let me sleep, today I walked directly in the middle of a snowball fight. I can tell you I woke up immediately. ]**

Baze was reading the message when someone knocked at the door. Who the hell could that be at eleven Sunday morning? Knock, knock, knock. Whoever it was, didn’t give up. Baze flung open the door. “It’s you again?” It was the blind neighbour who stood in the door in the most oversized, most thickest and most ugliest pullover that Baze had ever seen, but he was able to look just perfectly in it anyway. His arms were crossed as if it was cold while Baze was just in a T-shirt and thin sweatpants. 

“Good morning! I hope I didn’t wake you up this time!” he slightly bent to one side hesitantly but with a gorgeous smile. 

“Not this time! What do you want?” groaned back Baze. 

“Something is wrong with my heating. I can’t hear...the flow of the gas...and there is no heating and hot water in my apartment…” started to explain Chirrut with pauses. Baze followed with his eyes how he was shifting weight from one leg to another. 

 “Thats’t none of my problem.” answered back angrily, after all he was not the landlord, was he…? 

“I wonder if you could check it,  _ please _ . I’m sure that something just has to be switched on what I can’t... see. It wouldn’t take more than a minute.” Chirrut tilted his right ear toward Baze to hear his reaction which was  only a big sigh and a groan.

 “Look, there is no one else home on the floor and it’s Sunday. I’m almost certain that I couldn’t call out a mechanic and if I could it would be probably for a nothing.... And I’m cold...Please, would you be so kind to help? To a poor guy, like me?” Chirrut flashed out a sassy smile with full of gum to cut the edge of his words fully aware that he played out the joker card. 

Baze groaned louder this time rolling his eyes. He didn’t like the guy but he definitely wouldn’t let a blind man begging on his doorstep, freezing, when he could help. 

“Alright, stop it, I come over.” he reached for his keys. 

“Thank you!” said Chirrut with a relieved sigh and an even bigger smile Baze was afraid it will reach his ears. 

Baze found the apartment very nice and sunlit. The furnitures all seemed to be cosy and soft to touch, pushed to the wall or big space left around them. The colour of them harmonized with each other although there were no carpets or decorations on the wall just shelves full of books and all kind of things that seemed to be kept in order. He could imagine that everything always returned back to the same place. _And_ there were really cold, the heating should have been down for hours now.  

He stepped to the heater and one glance was enough to see what the problem was. “The pilot-flame should have blown out. If it’s not burning the gas flow stops automatically in 30 second. You see?” he turned to Chirrut. 

Chirrut just shrugged. “I’m not very good in mechanical things…uhmm.” he admitted with an apologetic smile. 

“Baze, you can call me Baze...Well, this is designed in a way that even little children could understand, so hopefully you will understand too.” hissed Baze and Chirrut pressed his lips together but didn’t say a word. 

“Ok, first of all you have to turn higher the scale. You can leave it on 2-3 if the flat is already warm but if you want to open the flame you have to put it on 5-6 at least to let the gas circle in it well.” he turned back to Chirrut. “You know these old machines have a soul.” 

“They have a soul?” a warm smile lit up Chirrut lips. “You seem to know a lot about machines.” he offered a compliment. 

“Yeah, well, my father showed me lots of things when I had to help him.” growled Baze in a deep voice letting his hand fall from the heater. 

“Oh, that’s very nice!” cheered up Chirrut even more. 

“There is nothing nice in it, that’s the only thing he done for me.” bited back Baze. “Whatever….” he took a deep breath. “Here, in the middle of the heater, there you can turn higher the scale. More on the right…” groaned Baze impatiently as Chirrut stretched out with searching fingers and touche unsure. “Do you feel the numbers on it at least?” 

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” admitted Chirrut shyly. 

“Oh, I do this time for you, but you have to fix that. I don’t want you to knock on my door every time you want to warm up the flat.” Baze slowly became really angry but he managed to overcome. 

“Of course.” the answer came quietly. 

“Ok. Next step. You have to turn down and up again the gas. The tap is on the right. On the right. More on the right. That’s it.” Baze just shook his head with a sigh when Chirrut finally found it. “If it is parallel with the pipe it’s open, when it is perpendicular it’is closed. But if the automatism closes down the heater then it blocks the gas flow even it’s open. You get it?” asked him with raised eyebrows. 

“Yes.” 

“Now close and open it again!” 

Chirrut obeyed and the gas started to circulate in the pipe. Chirrut face cheered up with a happy smile. “Oh, I can hear the gas. It’s working!” 

Baze caught himself staring at Chirrut, the way he smiled with that joyful expression made a warm feeling grow in Baze’s chest. He shook the feeling off with a shrug. “Of course it’s working. Third step. You have to light up the flame. There’s a switch above the scale… Higher, higher I said…Ok. If you push it a spark will light up the flame and you will hear a _whoosh_ -like sound.” Chirrut did as he was told and Baze looked purposely at his face to see the happy grin spread out again. 

“It’s working!” said Chirrut ardently. 

“Uhum. If the flame goes out again you will hear the gas flow stop, and you can retry the whole process in a couple of minutes.” 

“That’s clever...it cuts itself.”

 “Yeah, well… it was designed especially for guys like you...to not to blow the whole house on our head...you know.” 

Chirrut bowed his head and took a deep breath to raise again his face in the direction of Baze with a kind smile. “Thank you! Thank you for your help...and _patience_...explaining all that to me.” for Baze biggest surprise he seemed to be sincere. “I would offer you a nice cup of tea, but I bet you wouldn’t accept it...or would you?” asked then as he tilted his head.  

“Ughh. I don’t want you to burn yourself while boiling the water… so no thanks.” answered Baze with a huff. 

Chirrut smile disappeared. “I really appreciate your help, sir...” and stepped aside to open a free path toward the door. 

“I told you, you can call me Baze!” muttered Baze stepping to the door. 

“Yes, in the same sentence where you said I am on the intellectual level of a child. So thank you again for your help and have a nice day!” 

“Whatever.” told Baze mostly himself as he went out on the door. That is exactly why social life isn’t part of his daily schedule. 

 

*************************************

  **[Dear gourmet,**  

**I am happy for the snow.  But today there is something that bothers me.**

**Do you feel that sometimes you act like the worst version of yourself? Like all the arrogance, the spite and sarcasm that are secretly nesting in you would suddenly pop out and you can’t help it? When somebody is super irritating and instead of moving on and quickly close the case you act like a bulldozer, bulldozing him into the ground? Words come so easily. I’m sure you never met this kind of problem.]**

**[Hello bmrogueone,**  

**Actually, I completely understand what you mean and I am jealous. In general I believe that a smile, empathie and communication can solve every kind of problem and the right words can build a bridge between two people. But sometimes it’s hard to find the right words when you are in front of that special someone who treats you as an incapable idiot. I wish I could bulldozer down the other instead, like you said. But I can’t do anything, I don’t find the words, then I stay up the whole night, sleeplessly turning, trying to find out what I should have said. For example what I should have said to that gruff guy I met yesterday to win him? I still don’t know.]**

 

 **[Dear gourmet,**  

**Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could pass you a piece of my bulldozer style and you could give me a piece of your skill to find the right words? And then I would never behave like a bulldozer and you could overrun anybody with your kindness. And both of us would be happy. But I warn you: not everybody wants to be winned. Do you think that we could meet? ]**

 

“Meet?” Chirrut asked aloud and quickly shut the laptop down.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opininons, Chirrut is testing a restaurant and more chat.

**[Dear bmrogueone,**

**I spent a lovely night at my neighbours. They are a lovely couple and the kids are the sweetest little things, ever. They invited me for a dinner where I brought the dessert. I arrived earlier so I could help in the preparations and play with the kids. I can tell you, that my chocolate cake was a hit!]**

 

*****************************************************

“It was terrible. He couldn’t even turn up the scale because he didn’t feel or what the numbers on it.” complained Baze. “And he is not as nice.” 

“You mean his appearance? Is his eyes as bad?” finished Keyto the administration he did in the last twenty minutes. 

“No, he is handsome, even his eyes are beautiful. I mean... I suppose.” he added after noticing the look Bodhi and Keyto shared. “He is just exasperating.” 

“Imagine how hard could it be for him to ask your help when he knew you don’t like him.” Bodhi was helping Baze arranging the mugs.

 “It’s not against him. It’s nothing personal. He should just ask some help.” spouted out Baze finally. 

“He asked for help, Baze, he asked your help.” shrugged Bodhi. 

Baze just groaned under his breath admitting that Bodhi had right. Chirrut asked his help and he was really an asshole. Again. The poor guy didn’t call for that at all. “Ok, next time I try to be nicer to him…” he said to Bodhi. “But you know...he has a good skill to get under my skin…”. Bodhi just laughed and tapped his shoulder.

 

****************************************************

  **[Dear gourmet,**  

**Imagine that: I tried to buy a bagel in my favorite bagel place but there was a woman in front of me in the line who couldn’t make a decision. There’s a lot of choice to make, normal bun or wholemeal, with pumpkin or sesame seed, salty or sweet, either gluten free. And this is just the bun. If you don’t know who you are and what the hell are you doing in life you can’t discover your identity in a bagel shop. This is a long process for some. At the end we were five there waiting her to chose. And what did she chose? A salty normal bagel with ham and cheese. Sometimes the answer is just in front of your nose.**  

**I took a pumpkin seed, wholemeal bagel with goat cheese and onion chutney. ]**

 

***************************************************

 

“So he was the only one at home?” asked Jyn empathetically. “Was he kinder this time?” Jyn and Chirrut were sitting in a new restaurant called The Jazz Burger Bar downtown. 

Chirrut chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t say that...but he _really_ was helpful.” he felt Jyn’s questioning eyes on him so he continued. “I mean he showed me what to do, let me find the switches and the tap. I didn’t even know that existed.” he spoke with wide gestures. “And he explained how that awful thing works.”  

“Really? I thought he just turned the heating on.”

 “That’s what I expected as well but we spent long minutes till I understood. We even had an almost nice conversation…” the waiter arrived with their order. 

“Almost? A conversation?” leaned closer Jyn above the table. 

“Kind of… he spoke about his father and he said that machines have soul… in his grumpy way of course.” Chirut shrugged and turned the plate in front of him to smell the food. “I wonder why this is cold ‘Epic Burger New York’? Is the cheese thick?” 

“Yeah, kind of…. I mean I’m no expert but it’s almost 5 millimeters. Should I take a photo?” as Chirrut nodded Jyn took some photo with her phone while Chirrut was sipping his coke through a straw. ”He just doesn’t like you it seems to me…” said than Jyn returning to their conversation. 

“He has no reason to dislike me. He doesn’t even know me. I think he’s just as grumpy with everyone.” 

“Last time, when I was at your place I saw him.” Jyn put a small bit of cheese in her mouth. “Actually if he hadn’t that expression on his face saying ‘ _ don’t fuck me if you knew better’ _ he would be hot.” 

 Chirrut wanted to grab his burger but he stopped with curiosity. “Really? How does he look like?” 

“He is tall and broad with huge shoulders and arms. He doesn’t have as toned muscles as you, but he is strong. He has warm, brown eyes when he doesn’t want to eat you. Bearded, with a long hair that heavily spills on his shoulder.” Jyn wanted to give a picture that Chirrut can easily visualize. 

“Oh, I didn’t imagined him with long hair.” leaned back Chirrut in his chair. 

“You would like him, I guess, if he wouldn’t be so offensive.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t know.” answered Chirrut sheepishly. “How is your food? How many grapes you have on your salad?” 

Jyn explained what she saw on her plate, the salad and the burger and gave one grape with a little blue cheese to Chirrut to taste. After Chirrut had enough info Jyn continued with the question she wanted to ask since they’ve arrived. “Now tell me about your mysterious chatting partner!” 

“Oh, him?” Chirrut bowed his head timidly than smiled up to the ceiling. “You know we just chat about cooking, music, New York, about nothing important. And nothing personal. I mean we don’t know each other’s name, where we live exactly, just what we work. He is funny and... kind and... interesting...” Chirrut throat blocked by the emotions sprang up from his chest and he laughed. 

“So he could be anybody! The guy who is sitting at the table next to us.” 

“Oh, I know! Is he handsome, the guy at the next table?” Chirrut asked with a toothy grin. 

“Forget it! You like him? BMRougeone?” asked Jyn. 

“I think I like him.” Chirrut’s voice shifted and filled with a melodic halftone. 

“You know Chirrut…” started Jyn with a little hesitation. “It’s a very good thing that you like someone after all these years.” Chirrut rose his brows than frowned. “But you know, he is not real. He’s just a stranger on the net. You should meet with real people.” 

Chirrut dropped his chin against his chest and let out a long sigh. Than tilted his head with a smile. “You are real, Jyn. And that’s enough for tonight. Let’s eat!” With a secure move he picked his burger up with both hands and took a big bite, closed his eyes and started to chew searching the flavors. “It’s super juicy and I like the rye buns. And the sauce. Hmmm, onions are like caramel and then you have this little crispy flavor of the cheese. Why is this small silence?” 

“You grabbed the burger with your hands, Chirrut!” laughed Jyn. “This is not the McDonald’s!” 

“Oh, come on! A burger you have to eat with your hands! It has a different taste with knife and fork.” Chirrut let the messy and squeezed burger fall back to his plate. “Come on, give it a try. Where is your burger? Let me hear you take it and give it a big bite!” Jyn dropped the cutlery still laughing and grabbed her smaller burger with her hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirrut is lonely, gets tipsy, panics but Baze comes to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: descriprtion of a small panic attack. If you don't want to read about it, just skip the end of the chap, after they leave the elevator.
> 
> I'm not familiar in daily life with PA, I saw and heard talking about just a few times - so pls forgive me - this is how I see it as an outsider.

**[ Hey bmrogueone,**  

 **Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a simple life, I can only hope it’s valuable but certainly a decent life. I wonder sometimes do I live this life because I love it or I am just not brave or wise enough to change it? I really don’t want an answer to that, perhaps there isn’t an answer at all. There is no parallel universe where I can make different choices to compare it with the life I have. What does it mean brave or wise enough anyway?]**  

 

**************************************

 

Chirrut finished his drink. It’s been a long week. He sat at the bar in one of his favorite pub downtown. It’s been a few month that he last had a drink but the night was cold, the martini was good, he felt sore and he needed that drink. He heard someone pulling out the stool next to him to sit. “Hello, Beautiful!” the man with a fine, woody scent addressed him and smile came easy to Chirrut. “Hello stranger!” he replied.

 “What do you drink?” rose the man Chirrut’s glass to ask and Chirrut liked the airiness in his voice. “Martini.” he said quietly. 

“A martini for him and a whisky for me.” asked the man from the bartender. Based on his voice he was about the same age as Chirrut. “Do you come here often?” he asked and it was weightless to talk with him about everything and nothing, all the things strangers speak over a drink, the place, the city, the favorite pubs and restaurants, places they visited or they want to visit, their dreams.

Chirrut liked to talk and liked to listen to his melodic deep voice. The guy wasn’t pushy, the chat wasn’t deep and his compliments weren’t boring. In the middle of their second drink he bumped their knees together like accidentally. Chirrut didn’t lean to it but didn’t pulled away. The other man understood and respected the limit. Chirrut liked it as well.

He made him laugh and the laugh came naturally to Chirrut. In the middle of their third drink the man put his hand on his thigh above his knee. He said something silly that made Chirrut sigh and the man with the warm hand put a fingertip under Chirrut’s chin only for a split of a second to make his head tilt up. Chirrut’s eyelids were half-drain, washed blue by the light over the counter, his expression trusting and soft. The man with the tender aura bent and covered Chirrut’s mouth with his own. His lips were wet and soft, and he tasted the whiskey he drank. Chirrut breathed a laugh against his mouth.

  
The man with the feather-light touch grazed Chirrut’s shoulder, slick his fingers down on his arm to hold his hand. “I don’t want to force it…” he said in a low voice. “But I don’t live far.” 

Chirrut’s breathing stopped as the long known fear curled up in his chest and squashed his heart. In his head he heard his own few years younger voice saying something similar ‘ _I live nearby._ ’. He pulled back his hand, closed his eyes and turned his face away. “It’s late. I better go.” Chirrut faltered. 

The man receded. “I didn’t want to scare you, Beautiful. It’s ok if we just stay.” his words were gentle. “Let’s have another drink, I really like talking to you.” Perhaps it was true but Chirrut couldn’t decide anymore. He slipped off the chair, unfolded his cane and tapped for his way out.

“Wait, Beautiful.” the man with a sad voice called after him. “Give me your number, I would call you.” Chirrut didn’t turn back, fear slammed its claws into the inner side of his skin and slowly climbed up to cling upon his nape. He flang out from the bar to suck in deep the cooler night air. He searched for his phone and tapped Siri. “Turn on the taxi app. Call a taxi. Send message to the driver: I’m visually impaired. You should find me.” 

He tried to even his breath. It was ok now. The cab would arrive soon and the app was trackable sending a message to Cassian with the itinerary.

 

**********************************

 

Baze saw Chirrut climbing out from a cab to stumble to the front door. He put his fingers on the buttons to type the code but he stopped head tilted. “ ‘Night!” saluted Baze when he reached him. 

Chirrut turned his face in his direction with a gummy smile. “I forgot the code.” he snickered. He was tipsy a bit Baze noticed. “Step aside and let me do it.” Baze said surrendered. He typed in the code and opened the door for Chirrut. He floundered into the hall, stopped in front of the elevator and looked back to Baze, waiting. Baze huffed out a larger amount of air, called for the elevator and opened the door when it arrived.

Chirrut tottered inside and leaned lazily to the wall while Baze pushed their floor. Chirrut tilted his head toward him and grinned wild. His smirk was contagious and Baze’s mouth curved upwards as he watched him. “What’s so funny?” he asked. 

“Dunno” answered Chirrut with a shrug and lifted his head towards the ceiling. “I think I’m just drunk.” He chuckled. The edges of his words bleeded into each other just a little. 

“Yeah, I see.” answered Baze with a real smile and shook his head. Chirrut looked rumpled and sensual as he stood there totally lax. His lips were open and wet and Baze wondered how would it feel to kiss them slowly dipping inside with his tongue with lingering, gentle sweeps. The door opened with a melodic ring and he roused.

Chirrut followed his neighbour out of the elevator and tapped his way unsteadily puttering with his keys. One step ahead of his door he dropped his keychain and dipped to one knee to search for it. As he reached out for the key a voice from the past, familiar from his nightmares started to echo in his mind. ‘Are you going to open the door, my brown-eyed?’ He slowly straightened up from his position to press his back to the wall and pull his cane to his chest with both hands. He gasped for air. 

Seconds seemed to be hours as he focused on the sounds that surrounded him. He heard his deep voiced neighbour, Baze, to stop clanking his keys. He heard his footsteps approaching. He heard his own ragged breathing. ‘ _There is no one else here_.’ he repeated the sentence in his head.  ‘ _There is no one else here. There is. No one. Else. Here._ ’ 

“Is everything alright?” Baze's voice was different than usual. Kind, caring almost protective. Chirrut wasn’t able to let out any sound as his throat was clenched by a bad memory. “I hope you’re not going to throw out, so I have to clean it up!” the sore sound approached a little more. This tone was familiar from Baze, it was okey. Chirrut could cling in it, could lean on it. 

“I...I dropped my key.” he pressed out the words and closed his eyes. He heard the rustle of the clothes as the other bent for the key, lifted up and reached it to him. Then reached closer. As close that he only had to turn his palm up to grab it. He didn’t move. 

“I open the door for you.” the grumpy voice sounded sheltering. The key crackled, the lock clicked and the door grazed. Chirrut inhaled deeply and doddered to his door sliding one hand on the wall, pressing his cane to his body with the other and stepped in his appartment. 

“Chirrut…” the deep voice called him. He spun around head lifted towards the sound. Baze could see that it’s not fear in Chirrut’s eyes but terror. He didn’t know why but at that moment he wanted to reach out for him, to wrap his arms around his body to cradle him whispering soothing words to ease him. If Chirrut would let him. He wished he let him. “...are you alright?” he asked instead. 

“Thank you.” said Chirrut barely audible and slowly, very slowly closed the door. After a second Baze heard something that seemed to be a sob, then everything turned into silence behind the door. ‘ _The hell, this guy makes me itchy!_ ’ he said to himself. ‘ _He is terrible! He gets under my skin every damn time we meet!_ ’ Baze turned and went home.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Business and more chat

**[Dear gourmet,**  

**I completely understand what you mean. I also wonder sometimes what would have been different if I had the courage to do what I was afraid to do, if I made different choices or to let my instincts lead me. Christmas is coming, they are cutting down trees. It makes me a little bit sentimental.]**  

**[Hello there,**

**now it’s me who caught you online. Still there?]**

  **[Yes, hello!]**  

**[Christmas is a sentimental thing.**

**I think everybody is more emotional.**

**For example me, I feel a bit lost.**

**I was terrorising my friends for an advice**

**during we decorated my Xmas tree. Poor guys.**

**At least they made me a hot chocolate and told**

**me everything is going to be alright.]**

 

**[What kind of advice do you need? Can I help?]**

 

**[Can you help? I wish you could.]**

 

**[I can give you advice, I am great in giving advice.**

**Is it about love?]**

 

**[Nooooo.]**

**[It’s about business.]**

 

**[Ok. I wished it wasn’t about love.]**

**[I am good in business. Tell me.]**

 

**[I’m in a negotiation with New York Times.**

**They want to buy and integrate my blog.**

**The truth is I should accept anything they want to offer,**

**because, I probably shouldn’t tell you that,**

**but the blog isn’t as beneficial yet as it should be**

**and I’m running out of money.]**

 

**[So NYT is good news! What’s the problem?]**

 

**[I think it’s too big step for me**

**and they ask me things I don’t want to do.]**

 

**[You have to go to war!]**

 

**[To a war? What does it mean?]**

 

**[You have to fight and see how far you can go.**

**This isn’t personal, it’s business.**

**If you never try, you will never know.**

**Repeat that every time you feel**

**kindness is the only way.**

**Remember what I told you,**

**you don’t have to win everybody.**

**This is business. Fight!]**

 

**[So you do that? You fight all the time?]**

 

**[Not all the time. But probably you are right.**

**I take most of the things as a war to win.**

**For example I am thinking to open a second cafe.]**

 

**[Rogue Two? That would be nice!**

**Did you find a place?**

**You should have one or two cakes**

**that are available only in one of the them,**

**like a special offer.]**

 

**[Not yet! Still searching.**

**Good idea for the cakes...**

**So what is your decision? You continue with NYT?]**

 

**[I like better the idea now.**

**Thank you.]**

 

 *******************************************

 

Cassian was really disappointed. “Chirrut, this is really a nice price they offer. It covers largely your expenses.” They’ve just left the building of The New York Times after the meeting with the chief editor staff. Chirrut was exhausted already overwhelmed by the noise and crowd around Times Square. So they just tumbled into the nearest possible place to sit which was a bakery next to the Times Tower. Cassian understood that it was a lot that NYT asked but the benefice was clear and high. “I see that you should think it over, but you shouldn’t miss this opportunity.” 

Chirrut didn’t stop staring into the cup of the tea and Cassian was happy that he couldn’t see how much it looked worse than it’s taste. “I don’t know Cas. It’s completely the opposite what I want to do. Travelling, even if it’s uncomfortable, I could use to it….especially with all the help they offer.” he sipped the tea without feeling the taste. “I could do that.” 

Cassian fidgeted with the paper cup. He knew why Chirrut didn’t like the offer and he was speculating how should he convince Chirrut. “You know, everything is marketing. It is just a kind of publicity…” 

“It’s one thing to put a nice picture saying come and eat here,” he sounded bitter “and it’s another thing to write a positive critic even if it’s terrible. Who would believe me in a year? Than they switch me to a new guy.” 

“You should think it over at least! This offer is like a Christmas gift.” Cassian put his hand on Chirrut’s arm. 

“I didn’t say no...yet.” said Chirrut with a sigh. The day was nearly finished now, all of their obligations completed, so Cassian decided that they can just sit there for a while. “How about that guy...the owner of that café? Are you still chatting?” he asked after a long silence. 

Chirrut lifted his head toward the draft that blew through the open doors with a shy smile. “We’re still chatting about nothing.” he shrugged. “He wrote that we should meet.” 

Cassian made a joyful gasp. “You should meet him.” Chirrut snapped his face toward him slowly crossing his arm in front of his chest. “If he is half as kind, funny and interesting as you say, you should meet him!” 

Chirrut pressed his lips together but a small, timid smile triumphed over it as he glanced his eyes on Cassian. “I don’t know.” Cassian felt his heart ease as he saw that tiny little spark of hope in Chirrut’s face. 

 

******************************************

  **[Dear gourmet,**

**Any news from NYT?]**

  **[I’m still considering the offer.]**

**[Does it worth it than?]**

 

**[They ask lots of things. For example I had to travel around the country and one month to Europe and Asia. They would provide everything to be able to travel with my disability, but still it would be hard. But what bothers me the most that I should write positive opinion on restaurants who pays the price. So I really don’t know if I should accept it. Do you still want to meet me?]**

 

**[Definitely. When and where?**

**What kind of disability you have?]**

 

**[You didn’t figure it out yet? Than shall it be a surprise,**

**if you don’t mind. Or do you mind that I’m disabled?**

**Perhaps I should have pointed that out earlier. I’m sorry.]**

 

**[No need for apologies. I really don’t mind it.**

**When and where?]**

 

**[Tomorrow at 7?**

**There is a small Muffin Café**

**in the corner of Columbus and 70th.]**

 

**[I know it.**

**How will I recognise you?]**

 

**[I’m going to wear a black baseball hat.]**

 

**[That’s fine. See you tomorrow than.]**

 

***********************************************

 

The sun was shining bright so Bodhi and Baze chose to walk by foot back to Rogue. 

“Did you like the place?” Bodhi asked Baze. He just shrugged and made a grimace that could mean anything. 

“I think it was too small and overpriced.” he continued. 

“ˇUhm.” was the answer. 

“Perhaps we should check some streets that are further.” guessed Bodhi. 

“Hm-hm.” Baze hummed again. 

“Or perhaps by a small piece of land on Mars and build the first café there.” Bodhi managed to say it in a neutral tone. 

“Mhuhm.” was Baze only reply that made Bodhi halt. 

“I knew you didn’t pay attention at all!” he laughed tapping Baze shoulder who lifted his head as he has just awaken from a dream. “Now, what are you thinking about? The whole day you were walking in the clouds and not among us, men of mold.” 

Baze shrugged and looked away. He started with a groan. “You know, that guy...from the blog…#tasteandsscent…” 

“Yeees? “ prompted him Bodhi impatiently. 

“We are going to...meet.” Baze squeezed the word between his teeth. 

Bodhi jumped in the air then danced around Baze. “I knew it, I knew it! Finally you meet him! I knew it! Can’t wait to tell to the others!” 

Baze grunted and said some nasty swears under his breath. Because his life was cursed Bodhi will tell it to everyone and they will pester him for every detail later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep on for tomorrow's update.  
> They are going to meet! I promise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

A heavy wind blew in the café’s door when Baze opened it and he had to push his entire weight to be able to close it. It was two minutes past seven. He wasn’t late. He hesitated a moment then decided to step to the counter full with the muffins the café was named after to take a glance around and find the man in the black baseball hat. Definitely a man. Because of the baseball hat he was now sure that @gourmet was a man. 

The place wasn’t big but almost full. There were three couples, some women sitting at two different tables, a small companie at another and there was a family with two bigger kids. A waiter maneuvered with an order between the tables and another one stopped by the side of one chatting with a client Baze couldn’t see. He saw only one man sitting alone at a table next to the window. A man about the same age as Baze. He wore a deep blue business suit and he hadn’t any hat. It wasn’t him. 

Perhaps it was the one who was talking with the waiter. Baze could see only his jeans. It seemed that they have fun as they were both laughing but Baze couldn’t hear it from where he was standing. The waiter finally moved away and Baze saw the man sitting at the table, alone. It was his blind neighbour, Chirrut. He looked stunning and he was almost glowing even though he was just sitting at there holding an enormous mug. He wore a black shirt and he had a black baseball hat. 

Baze eyes opened wide and only one word came into his mind: ‘ _FUCK_.’ With capital letters. He turned back to the muffins, an action totally wasted on Chirrut. He closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘ _I let him wait_.’ He was off the door.  

‘ _How can it be possible?_ ’ he asked himself. He started to walk without noticing where his foots were taking him. The sharp, chilli wind cut his face, snap at his hair, clung into his coat but couldn’t blew out Chirrut’s image from his mind. When he looked up after a good half an hour he found himself in front of the Muffin Caffé. Again. ‘ _It’s freaking cold. It’s absolutely rational to get inside._ ’ he told to himself as he opened the door. 

Chirrut was still there. He walked with heavy footsteps and addressed his words to him from a few steps earlier before he reached his table. “Chirrut! What a surprise!” he played. “Are you alone? Would you mind if I sit?” 

“Yes, actually I would.” straightened Chirrut trying to hide his jolt. “I’m expecting someone.” 

“What are you drinking?” Baze lifted his mug to sniff in. “It’s orange tea?” 

“Hey, give back my tea! Don’t touch it!” Chirrut reached out desperately and confused when Baze pulled the mug out of his reach. When finally Baze put the mug back on the table he grabbed it with a confident hand and pulled it closer. “It’s orange tea. I like orange. Ok?” 

Baze turned the chair and straddled on it. The waiter came right away. “Can I bring you something?” 

“No, he is not staying!” objected Chirrut. 

“Yes, an espresso, decaf, with milk apart.” answered Baze with a smile. 

“Hey, you are not staying!” repeated Chirrut more firmly. 

“I just stay here until your friend gets here.” The door made ring the bell above it as a man entered the café. Chirrut straightened and turned his right ear towards the sound of his steps than leaned to the back of the chair when the stepps stopped at another table to greet the small company there. 

“Nope, it seems it’s not him.” said Baze with a malicious tone. 

“You are delighted, aren’t you? Everything is an opportunity to criticize... You don’t live.” Chirrut made a wide gesture. 

“What do you mean I don’t live?” Baze flinched. 

“I’m sure you crossed the park to come here, you must had.” Chirrut leaned forward and shifted his weight slowly from side to side. “Did you look at the naked trees, the snow covering everything? Did you see children playing? Did you hear them laughing? People chatting? Or the crows croak? You miss everything around, you see only the dark side of things. You don’t experience life. The taste of life!” 

Baze felt a bitter taste in his mouth. “The taste of life? Says the man who sits alone in a café.” he said it and he couldn’t bite it back. 

Chirrut leaned back against the chair and turned his head as if he wanted to avoid Baze's gaze. He took down his baseball hat, placed it on the table with a small sigh and wrapped his hair. Slowly he turned his face back in Baze direction.  “Please go, just please go, I beg you.” Baze rose immediately without a word. “Thank you!” Chirrut tilted his head with a surprise and relief, but he jumped on his chair and looked back above his shoulder when he noticed that Baze went to sat to the next table. 

The waiter came with the order of Baze and placed it in front of him. He shifted around to Chirrut. “That reminds me the first day when we met accidentally.” 

“The day you almost hit me?” Chirrut shaked his head. 

“Oh, you strolled in the way, you didn’t see the lifted door of the parking and the red light. You should have been more careful if you cannot see.” 

“Oh, here we are again!” tapped on the table Chirrut with anger. 

“Well, you cannot deny that you are…” he couldn’t finish because the sound of the opening door drew Chirrut’s attention. A man with a loud, deep voice greeted the barman. “He has white hair, white beard and wears a red coat with red trousers. So I take a guess he is not him either. Who are you waiting for I wonder? Would you speak about the taste of life to him, too?” 

Chirrut turned around to address his words a little bit over Baze’s head. “No, he doesn’t need that because he is completely unlike you. He is a friend....” 

“But...he is not here.” Baze interrupted him and Chirrut smile dropped. 

“Well, if he is not here he surely has a reason. He has not cruel or careless. But I really won’t ask to understand that. You never tried to understand me.” 

Baze took his coat and sat back to the Chirrut’s table. “Well, I know a lot of things about you.” 

“I hardly believe that.” spat Chirrut. 

“I know you like walking, you like orange and you’re not good with mechanical things.” Chirrut turned his face, it seemed, to look directly in Baze’s eyes. Baze lowered his voice. “I know you are cute when you’re tipsy.” Chirrut rose his eyebrows and the corner of his lips turned up barely visibly. Baze wondered why did he come back here, why did he want to speak with Chirrut. “And I know that you are afraid of something.” he wanted to shelter Chirrut with these last words, but as Chirrut’s lips pressed into a thin line he knew the effect was just  the opposite. 

“Well, good for you.” said Chirrut with unspoken sadness in his voice. 

“You could discover also a lot of things if you would knew me.” 

Chirrut straightened and snapped sharply. “If I would knew you I would found nothing because you are hiding. Even from yourself. Who are you, Baze? Even you don’t know.” The air stucked in Baze’s chest for a moment and Chirrut bit his lower lip to that sound. Baze nodded three or four times and when he realized that Chirrut can’t see it he said “Ok. I deserved that one.” He put some money on the table and stood up. Chirrut made a vague move as if he wanted to reach for him but he stopped in the last moment and let his hand drop back in his lap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 days break now, sorry guys this is not voluntary.  
> Next update on Sunday.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after and a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Here is the new chap. :-)

After Baze left Chirrut stayed a little while. The good mood he had all day faded away. Everything turned bitter even his tea in the mug so he just left it there unfinished. 

The way back home was much longer in the wind as strong he could push almost his entire weight against. He knew that every step was shorter and he had to add some while counting them but he still struggled to find the curbsides and the corners he had to turn. He didn’t want to take the subway he needed the wind to snap in his face.

 When he reached home he was totally jaded. After making sure he closed the door he found his laptop at the dining table. He feebly instructed the machine to open his blog and the personal messages. There was no message from @bmrogueone. He slept curled up on the couch all dressed up.

 

************************************

 

“So how was last night?” Jyn couldn’t wait to hear the news. She was waiting for Chirrut at the subway station to go together to the yoga class. The one Chirrut visited as he was already cutting his cost following Cassian’s advice. “Was he cool, kind, funny? I bet he was hot! Tell me everything! Every little detail!” she tapped Chirrut lightly with enthusiasm. 

“He didn’t come.” said Chirrut simply as they caught up the pace Chirrut sweeping his staff gently. 

“No! What? It can’t be possible!” Jyn put her hands in the pocket of her coat. She was angry at the guy she didn’t even know but she forced herself to not show it. “Something could happen to him, that restrained him and he couldn’t go…” 

Chirrut halted abruptly and looked over Jyn’s left shoulder. “What if he came and saw me?” his voice had a little harsh tone that made Jyn sad. He looked down toward Jyn elbow searching for words. “What if he thought my disability is just a smaller one, limping with a cane, or something like that…” Chirrut rose his shoulder and opened his arm. “What if...he just saw me...and...and…”

Jyn touched his arm. “It’s not possible, Chirrut. He said he didn’t mind so probably he prepared for it.” and she added when Chirrut’s arms fell in disbelief. “Don’t torture yourself, you are not a monster or something. You are a wonderful, charming, handsome man and he is a fool if he wasn’t there to see that.” 

Chirrut sighed then a smile lit up his face. “Perhaps you are right, he just couldn’t come.” 

“Had an accident.” guessed Jyn.

 “Stuck in an elevator...without his phone.” laughed Chirrut as they started to walk again. 

“Broke his key into the lock and the electricity went down...after he dropped his phone in the toilet.” added Jyn. 

“Yeah. Possible.” smiled in her direction Chirrut.

“So you were just sitting there alone?” 

“Not alone. Mr. Grumpy came in…” said Chirrut lifting his head toward the grey sky searching for the hiding sun. “I don’t want to talk about it.” but he continued as Jyn hooked her arm in his elbow. “He was...taunting...and I couldn’t stop myself.” 

“I’m sure he deserved everything you told him.” assured him Jyn firmly.

 

*************************************

 

Baze didn’t stick his nose out from the kitchen of Rogue all day. He let himself lost in measuring, mixing, filling, baking and torturing his cook. Bodhi looked through the rounded window of the kitchen’s door several times with the face of a pander waiting for the news but he didn’t came in. He was able to restrain himself until the pastry cook left at 5 pm than he flounced in.

“What happened? Who is @gourmet?” asked putting his elbows on the table. “Baze, how was the date?” 

“It wasn’t a date, Bodhi.” groaned back Baze.

“Ok. So how was the...meeting?” rolled his eyes Bodhi. 

Baze snapped the kitchen towel at the table with a deeper groan. “It was...the guy was...is...Chirrut.” he let the words out with a huff and when he noticed the question in Bodhi’s eyes he added. “My insupportable neighbour.” 

Bodhi’s eyes opened wide and he rose on his hands on the table with an incredible expression on his face. “Your neighbour?” he marveled. “The blind guy? Your neighbour? Is @gourmet? Wow!” he turned the information in his head. “That makes sense! There is a blind guy who has been here several times lately. He’s so cool! Is that him? All the things he writes, the way he shows the restaurants, the food. He doesn’t see them! Wow! I can’t beleive! I have to tell that to Keyto!” he rushed to the door but stopped and came back. “Wait! What? So it was him? And what happened?” 

“It was awful.” leaned Baze to the table with his waist. “He was terrible and offensive and snooty.” he became more and more sour as he listed. 

Bodhi raised his brows. “How did he react when he realised it’s you?” 

“He didn’t have the chance to realise it. I didn’t tell him.” said Baze almost audible. “I pretended that I just dropped in by accident.” 

Bodhi held his breath in and leaned closer in disbelief. “You didn’t tell him?” he flinched back as Baze glanced at him. “How could you do that? That’s…” whatever he wanted to say he bit it back shaking his head. 

Baze bow his head and rounded the table to be as far from Bodhi as he can. But he couldn’t kept his words inside as they flared up from his chest like hot lava.  “No, I didn’t tell him. Instead I provoked him and said things… I shouldn’t have…” and finally he admitted with a long desperate sigh. “I fucked it up.”

Bodhi just stood there. He knew Baze almost eight years now. He knew him antisocial, morose, crabby even snappy but never this. He rounded the table to step closer to Baze. “You should fix it then.” he said nothing more.

 

***************************

 

**[Hello bmrogueone,**  

**Last night I waited in the café and you weren’t there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish.**  

**As I waited someone else showed up. A man who sees only my failures and points out my weaknesses. I couldn’t help myself and acted the same way as he does all the time. I was arrogant, mean and probably cruel. Of course I felt terrible later and I feel terrible now. But perhaps you were right I cannot win everybody.**  

**I can hardly believe that anything I said mattered to this man, but what if it did? No matter how is he or what he said, there is no excuse to my behaviour.**

**Anyway, I just so wanted to talk to you even if I send my message into space even if you don’t want to talk anymore. I hope you have a reason for not being there last night. I wonder perhaps you didn’t show up because you found out my disability, that I’m blind, and that scared you away. I would be sorry. But you don’t seem like the kind of person that would do something like that.**  

**Perhaps I presumed a lot. I do that, sometimes. Forgive me. The odd thing about chatting with a stranger is that you are more likely talking about little nonsenses and you think you got to know the other one. I just wanted to say, that all these nonsenses meant more to me than so many serious things. Thank you.]**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze feels ashamed and searches for contact, but life goes on - new ideas for professional life.

It was past midnight. The only light came from the screen of Baze’s laptop he was staring at. He stood up, poured a glass of water than sat back on the chair. He drank the water. He rubbed his face and with a sudden decision he headed to the bathroom. After having a shower and put on his pajama he sat back. He read Chirrut’s message once more even if he could recall all the words if he wanted to. He rubbed his face again and groaned. 

**[I am sorry, I stucked in an elevator and I arrived home too late…**

 “No, that’s a poor excuse…” Baze let his head in his palms. 

**[I am really sorry! I was very busy these days. I mixed the date and...**  

“Arrggh, that is even worse, who would believe that?” murmured and he cursed himself “What the hell am I doing? He doesn’t know it’s me. What am I doing?” Baze closed his eyes, inhaled deeply to let it out quickly. He couldn’t explain why but he wanted to keep alive this connection. Chirrut was so different in his messages and he had to admit that he, himself was different when he sent his messages to Chirrut. He wished it could be the same when they are face to face. How can that be possible? Is that even possible? “I wish.” he murmured.

 

**********************************************

 

Chirrut started at the couch where he fell asleep again. He set an alarm to give a small sound when a new message dropped in. This was the tenth message that day, none of the previous ones came from @bmrogueone. He reached for the laptop sleepily and asked the computer to read out the sender. “Sender is Bmrougeone.” said the mechanic voice. He closed his eyes and slowly gave the instruction to read the message. 

**[Dear gourmet,**

**I can’t explain what happened last night but I ask you to forgive me for what happened. I feel terrible that I disappointed you and instead of a pleasant evening you found yourself in a situation that made it even harder for you. I am sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, perhaps even deserved. Everyone says things that they regret when they are hurt. You were expecting a friend and you met with someone discomforting. The fault is mine. One day I will explain everything.**  

**Till then I’m here. Please, talk to me.]**

 

Chirrut opened his eyes, closed the laptop and pulled tighter the blanket around himself.

 

*****************************************************

 

Cassian was standing in front of Chirrut’s door trying to gather his thoughts. During the last weeks they were constantly working out strategies and plans how to make a deal with NYT and Cassian tried to figure out how to convince Chirrut to accept the deal as it was although he knew it’s almost impossible.

 That’s why he was standing there centering himself when the elevator arrived and opened with a little melodic sound. He looked up to see the awful neighbour arriving. The one who didn’t stop making Chirrut’s life harder. Cassian stared at him with his most disapproving look he could manage but it seemed it didn’t intimidate the other at all. The guy looked as if he was about to jump over him to tear him apart. So Cassian imperiously rang the bell. 

After they settled on the couch he immediately came to the subject. “So, did you make a decision? Will you accept the offer?” 

Chirrut didn’t look up just fidgeted with his laptop for too long. Cassian waited even if he needed all his self control to keep quiet. Finally Chirrut started to speak. “There is a new georgian restaurant at West Brighton.” Of course he started to talk about something totally different thing Cassian noticed with a sigh. “I should visit them and perhaps bring with me the chief editor of the cultural columns.”

“Miss Mothma? Why?” asked Cassian now in confusion. 

“To show her that these little restaurants are worth to be shown not the big ones who pays the publicity.” Cassian started to understand the idea. “Georgian restaurants are usually ran by the family. I’m sure there will be a big, cheerful lady with his huge husband who has an incredible moustache, always ready to chat.” explained Chirrut with enthusiasm, big gestures and a confident smile.

 “That’s not a bad idea. I could arrange that.” nodded Cassian. That sounded like a plan. 

“I could bring that...guy too..what’s his name?” 

“Which guy?” 

“The fucker, who said that...” Chirrut imitated “... _’it will assure a positive image to The New York Times to apply a visually impaired person’_. I could charme them both.” He can charm them with his words Chirrut was certain. Words and words and more words, words to shine and words to steal people’s heart and words to bewitch and words to make them smile, and words to hide. He had many words to hide.  

“Mr. Draven? Ok, I can arrange that as well.” Cassian grabbed immediately his phone with a relief. That was a really good plan.

 

 

******************************************

 

Apparently Baze fucked it really up. Chirrut disappeared into thin air. Christmas is passed and it’s been more than two weeks, that felt much longer, and Chirrut didn’t show up in the hall or in the park. Baze still kept his ears listening to footsteps in the hall and looking around searching for the familiar figure on the street. More than one time Baze thought of just knocking at Chirrut's door and try fix things up, but he didn’t really know how to do it. 

He saw the guy, probably Chirrut’s co-worker or business partner coming almost every day. That could mean two things, business is going well or business is going bad. He met with the girl too, one of Chirrut’s friends, Baze presumed, coming several times in the last days. Both were staring at him from distance with severe eyes, but they avoided him like a plague. Perhaps if he didn’t have the courage to knock on Chirrut’s door he could ask this girl if Chirrut is alright. After the decision was made opportunity came easily. 

Baze was leaving the building when he saw the girl typing the code with two big grocery bag in her hands, bigger bags than usually. So he opened the door and kept it for her as she entered. She lifted her head intentionally not looking at him. 

Baze cleared his throat. “Hey, you’re Chirrut’s friend, aren’t you?” he asked directly. 

“Why do you care?” she turned back sharply.

 “Well, I mean… I didn’t see Chirrut for a couple of days now...and you are making the shopping for him...so I thought...maybe….” but he didn’t know how to continue after maybe. Maybe he was avoiding him, maybe he didn’t want to talk with Baze, maybe he didn’t want to stick his nose out and just wanted to be left alone, or maybe he didn’t give a damn to Baze and it was just a misfortune that Baze didn’t see him. 

“Maybe he is crying in his pillows because you’re such an asshole?” she asked offensively and Baze could just clench his jaw. “Well, you _are_ a dickhead to continuously mock the cutest guy on earth but don’t worry he won’t jump out of the window because of you. He survived more difficult periods than this, when....” she bit back her words sucking in her lower lip. “...never mind.” she wawed.  

Baze was curious how did she mean that but decided to let it go for now. “So then why the shopping for?” he got back to the original question. 

“He just splayed his ankle and it needs some days of rest.” she answered with a sigh and a searching look. 

“Oh, ok.” relieved Baze. That explains everything. “Thanks.” The girl said nothing more just turned towards the elevator with a shrug.

 

**************************************

**[Dear gourmet,**  

**You didn’t write me since. Which is alright. Forgiveness can be asked but not forced. I can only hope that my messages reach you and one day you will answer me.**  

**Usually it's not easy to recognise what you want in your life. But once you made a decision the path will be clear. I wish I would be as lucky. I just wanted to share this with you.]**


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze makes muffins.

Someone was knocking at the door with a rhythmic beat. Chirrut closed his book in his lap and turned his right ear toward the door. It wasn’t the rhythm of Jyn and Cassian always used the bell. ‘Who can it be?’ he asked himself when the rhythm was tapped again. He let out a little hiss of pain as he put his abused foot too quickly on the ground. 

He carefully limped to the door. “Who’s that?” he asked behind the closed door.

“Uhm...it’s me…your scratchy neighbour.” came the muffled answer from the other side. 

Chirrut rolled his eyes. “What do you want?” 

“The girl...your friend said you splayed one ankle...and I thought you can use some muffins…” for a moment Chirrut heard the same kindness and concern he remembered from the night when he came home drunk but he wasn’t sure. “...and of course I thought maybe it can be my apologies for being such a...a jerk?”

Chirrut put one hand on the door and leaned his forehead to it. After a long pause he addressed his words to the ground. “I am really not in the mood for that now. Please leave!” There were silence on the other side. He focused but he didn’t hear footsteps moving away. The guy was still there. 

He heard his voice again. “It’s a pity,” he said. “‘cause I baked some orange flavored muffin. And I have a really nice blend of black tea. I made a kettle as well.” small pause. “Orange is your favorite, isn’t it?” 

Now it was Chirrut’s turn to stay in silence. After a long moment Baze heard the lock click and the door opened a crack. In the niche he could see a slim slice of the silhouette of Chirrut. “Is it really orange muffin?” he asked precariously.

“Yep.” Baze tapped the tray. “And tea.” he clinked the pot.

“And you made it?” Baze saw curiosity rising in him from the way he lifted his eyebrows and from the little curve in the corner of his mouth. He knew he won this.

“Yep. Old family recipe.”

“Maybe I can accept it.” Chirrut opened the door wide and with an impish smile he added “As the first step of your apologies.” 

Chirrut was standing in the door shifting his weight on one leg and on the door, in white deep cut v-collar T-shirt with his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, sleepy face and ruffled hair. ‘He’s hot’, Baze thought, unable to tear his eyes away from the muscles of Chirrut’s chest. He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. 

Chirrut tilted his head and reached forward, probably for the muffins. Baze stepped closer to take a look inside. ”Is your heater working?” he asked and moved inside using the space Chirrut opened involuntarily as he turned toward the heater.

“Hey.” snift Chirrut as he felt Baze passing by. 

“I see you put marks on it.” 

Chirrut pushed the door closed. “Yes, now I can turn it on and off as I like.” he managed to take the plate out of Baze’s hand, limped back to the door to reopen it. “Well, thank you…” and waved with his head to show Baze outside. 

Baze didn’t want to leave. “The teapot is hot. I put it on the table.” he looked back to Chirrut, put the pot on the table and pulled out a chair. “Come on, sit down. It’s not good for your leg to stand around. Come on!” Baze prompted Chirrut when he didn’t move. “Where are your plates?”

Chirrut closed the door and turned the lock with a sigh to limp back carefully to the table. He moved with security in the familiar surroundings and sat at the table. 

“Oh, I’ve found the plates and mugs.” Baze clattered in the kitchen to return to the table and put a plate with a mug in front of Chirrut who sat there waiting. “Here you go, a muffin. I want to know your opinion.”

Chirrut rose the plate and smelled the muffin. “Hmmm.” he groaned appreciatively. He took a bite and made the most unabashed sound Baze had ever heard from him. Pure pleasure covered his face as he continued to groan. Baze felt his stomach light on fire, thinking on all the other ways in which he could make Chirrut sound the same.

“You made this?” he asked before stuffing the rest of the muffin in his mouth with an other pleasured moan. “It’s fantastique!”

He reached over and searched for a second one, breaking it in two pieces and taking a bite. “The dough is not dry and the top is perfectly crispy. The flavor is distributed equally and the candied orange is mind blowing, really…” he took another bite as he continued to mewl.

“You sound like an expert.” Baze managed to say as he remembered how his own lips are working.

“Hmmm.” answered Chirrut. “There is something, an ingredient that I cannot identify.” he took another piece tasting it attentively. 

“Make a guess!” Baze prompted a bit of a pride.

“I would say it’s nutmeg but no. It’s more spicy…What’s that?” he turned to Baze with a smiling face. Baze jerked back as he realised that he lent too close.

“I cannot let out.” he lifted his hands in the air. “Told you, family receipt. Secret ingredient from my grandmother.”

Chirrut started to laugh. “From your grandmother? I would never imagine that…” Chirrut made a waggish grin. “You are full of surprises today.” gorging a big piece.

“Taste the tea as well.” filled Baze his mug with the tea forcing himself to look elsewhere than Chirrut. “So, how did you splayed your ankle?”

“I just missed a step on my treadmill.” he sipped the tea. “Mhhm, it’s good, strong. Nice tea.” but he returned to the muffins. “It’s swelling but nothing serious.”

Baze turned to the treadmill in the corner. “How old is it? The treadmill.” he added when he saw Chirrut’s questioning face.

“It’s been ten years now I bought it. Why?”

“You probably don’t see it…” before he could finish Chirrut slammed the rest of the muffin he had in his hand and leant back on the chair.

“Oh, here we go. Thank you for pointing that out again.” he rubbed his palm together to get rid of the crumbs. “If you came for that I can tell…”

“No, no, don’t be mad. Please! Let me finish!” butted in Baze. “These old machines are sensitive, I already told you. The screws and gears gets loose and it may change the rhythm of the band. That’s why you missed the step. Nobody can see that.” 

“Really?” Chirrut shifted his body in Baze’s direction contemplating. Than he shrugged and searched for the rest of his muffin. “What can I do about it? Can it be fixed?”

“I can fix it for you. I’m good in fixing things.” Baze paused as he noticed that Chirrut stopped chewing with an unreceptive expression on his face. “I mean not know. I would need my tools.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t need you to do that.” he said as he put down the rest of the cookie.

“Let’s make a deal.” Baze proposed.

“A deal?”

“Yep. If I tell you the secret ingredient and you say you would never have guessed it... you let me fix the treadmill for you. As the second step of my apologies.”

Chirrut chewed on his lower lip turning his face up to the ceiling than searched for the muffin to take a bite. He closed his eyes while tasting. “Alright.” he agreed. “Deal. What’s in it?”

“Ginger syrup.” answered Baze triumphantly.

“No way! You got me there!” Chirrut laughed “So when do you want to fix it?”

“Friday about five?”

“Ok. I’ll be here. Can’t go far anyway.”

“Yeah. You better put something under your leg to help heal your ankle. Come on, let me help you to go to the couch.”

Chirrut didn’t mentioned that he is able go to the couch alone. He let Baze help him and put some pillows under his injured foot. Baze fidgeted perhaps a little too long placing his leg.

“You need your book? Or I don’t know, is it a book?” Baze picked up the book with dots on the cover.

“Yes, it’s a book. Thank you.” Chirrut reached for it and put it in his lap.

“Can I ask you a question?” Baze brought Chirrut’s mug from the dining table to place it in front of Chirrut.

“What?”

“What happened with your friend from the cafe?”

“Nothing.” shrugged Chirrut.

“So you’ll meet again?” asked Baze innocently.

“Actually, I don’t know him.” Chirrut covered his face with one hand laughing low. “He is the owner of one of the cafe's I wrote a post about. We just talking through the messenger.” he explained.

Baze sat on the edge of the couch at Chirrut’s leg. “Oh, but you still want to see him?”

“Of course. Even if I cannot literally see him - before you point that out.”

“Chirrut, how did you got blind?” The wrinkle became deeper between Chirrut’s eyes and he let out the air loudly. Baze cursed himself and when Chirrut opened his lips to speak he put three fingers on them what made Chirrut still. “Don’t say a word. I know I didn’t have any right to ask that. I’m sorry. Don’t say anything that you would regret and you torture yourself for days.” he stood up and turned back from the door. “I’ll come friday.”

“Thank you for the muffins.” answered Chirrut. After he closed the door Chirrut listened to his footsteps moving away. He turned his attention to the not yet familiar noises of the apartment. He focused for long moments. When he was sure that he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary he stood up, limped to the door and turned the lock closed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze lost in his thoughts, who is teasing who.

**[Hey bmrogueone,**

**I was thinking about that and I think we should meet.]**

 

**[Dear gourmet,**

**We should and we will. But I am in the middle of a project**

**that needs some time of preparations.]**

 

 

*****************************************

Baze kneeled next to the treadmill getting out the tools from his work-box with Chirrut standing above him listening to the metallic cling. It seemed to Baze that his ankle was better as he barely limped. 

“You’ve got hell of a lot white T-shirts.” looked up Baze. Chirrut’s T-shirt was a very simple one still showing his muscled frame and golden skin. What made Baze goosy was his skinny jeans showing everything moving under the material. The play of the cleanly defined muscles and, well, everything. Baze felt heat surge through him. 

Chirrut just shrugged. “It’s easier.” he put his hands in the back pocket of his trousers opening his chest and baring his throat. “How long will it take, you think?” 

Baze turned the question in his head. Standing up, cupping Chirrut’s head, pressing his mouth to the smooth skin under the bolt of his jaw, slowly, gently sucking and nibbling along the column of his throat. About two minutes, he guessed. 

“Baze?” Chirrut’s voice pulled him back to the ground. “How long will it take to fix the treadmill?” 

“Oh, uhm…” Baze struggled to find some competent words. “About half an hour.” 

“Splendid.” he revealed his perfect, white teeth in a smile. “I’m in the kitchen.” 

Baze tried to gain back his focus on his tools. Chirrut’s barefooted steps were almost lost on the parquet as he crossed the living room to round the kitchen island to open the fridge. He started to dismantle the treadmill and soon he heard whipping from the other side. He looked up to see that Chirrut is mixing together butter, flour and milk, something that seemed to be a bechamel. He turned back his attention to take apart and put together again the machine. 

“Are you ready?” he heard exactly at the moment when he pulled the last screw. 

“I just pack my things and I’m ready.” he answered. 

“Just in time” Chirrut confirmed “That can wait! Come wash your hands and help me to prepare the croque madame.” 

“The _what_?” Baze stood up in confusion.  

“Croque...ah…” Chirrut waved with resignation and grin. “...ham and cheese sandwich with fried-egg.I already put the sandwich in the oven, it needs about 3 more minutes. You have to make the eggs.” 

Baze approached the stove to see the pan already heated so he cracked an egg in it. 

“It’s done when the top of the white is cooked, but the yolk is still very runny.” Chirrut explained. 

“I know, Chirrut, this isn’t the first time I’m doing a fried-egg.” groaned back Baze. Chirrut grabbed the oven gloves and took out the sandwich to carefully place it on a plate. 

“Is it ready?” he leaned closer touching Baze’s arm lightly to smell the frying egg. 

“It seems to be ok.” 

“Than put it on the sandwich, please.” he asked in growing excitement. “Carefully!” and stepped away to let space. Baze slided the egg on the bread and he was proud that the yolk stayed together. 

Chirrut let out a sigh. “It’s beautiful. Isn’t it beautiful?” he looked over Baze’s head. Baze murmured something approving meaning not the sandwich. Than Chirrut heated up a knife and gave it to Baze. “Now cut it in half and tell me what you see!” he ordered. Baze did what he was asked to do then held his breath in as Chirrut bent above the counter placing one hand on Baze’s shoulder waiting with a childish joy to hear Baze’s words. 

Baze swallowed hard and looked back to the plate. “The bread is golden brown.” _‘like your skin_ ’ added Baze in his head and gulped. “The layers are equal, the cheese is melting and the yolk is dripping down.” he struggled to describe it to Chirrut. 

Chirrut licked his lips and asked again with an ecstatic smile. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Baze couldn’t take his eyes off his muscles playing under the skin of his bicep and he swallowed hard. Chirrut heard it but misunderstood and straightened reaching out with impatience. “Let’s eat!” 

Baze put the half of the sandwich in his open palm and they ate in silence. In a silence that was bruised by Chirrut’s devotional little moans and Baze could hardly swallow down his part. “Let’s make a second one!” Chirrut order licking his fingers to clean them from the rest of the mustard. Baze wondered if he was aware of the effect he made on him. He cleared his throat while Chirut occupied himself with the preparation of the second sandwich. 

“What’s up with the ‘internet’ guy?” he asked Chirrut. “Are you finally going to meet?” 

Chirrut didn’t look up from the plate. “I wrote to him to meet but he said that he is in the middle of some project…” he rose his head and frown trying to recall word by word “...that needs some time of preparation.” said without any conviction. He smiled to Baze as he put the bread on the oven pan and licked his fingers. Again. Still smiling with a toothy grin. Baze knees went weak. Again. 

Baze managed to find his voice. “Some preparation?” he played surprised. “Interesting…” 

Chirrut just shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know what does that mean.” he put the pan in the oven. “What project he has.” leaned with his waist to the counter with a shy face while Baze made another egg. 

“You say always he. You know his name?” 

“No. He is just @bmrouguone as I am @gourmet. This is the fun part of it, I think. Or this was, actually.” the sandwich was ready and Baze put the egg above it as the final touch. Chirrut now seemed to pay more attention on what Baze said instead of what he did with the egg. 

“So he could be a she as well.” Baze guessed. “Perhaps that’s why she is postponing to meet you. She didn’t make a decision yet.” 

Chirrut just laughed than frowned with a puzzled expression. “You think? I never thought on that…” he gave a big bite and began to eat. 

“You should ask…” Baze saw that he put the bug in Chirrut’s ear but he wanted to say neutral like it was just a meaningless conversation. “I put the rest of the bechamel back to the fridge.” when Chirrut nodded mouth full he opened the fridge and put the small bowl on one of the almost empty shelves. 

“You ran out of food?” he asked. 

“Oh, yeap. I don’t like to do the shopping alone.” he admitted as he put the plates in the machine. 

“Well, tomorrow is market day. We can go together. I pick you up eight in the morning.” Baze forced nonchalance as he picked his tools. 

Chirrut turned in his direction and came closer from the kitchen, contemplating. A slow smile lit up his face and made the little wrinkles dance around his eyes. “Ok. At eight then.” 

 

 

************************************

 

**[Hey bmrogueone,** **  
** **Not if it would matter, but are you a man or a woman?]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually I loved this chap, where Baze gets in trouble deeper and deeper and Chirrut doesn't even know...


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little walk in the market, they're getting closer and closer. Secrets still not reveiled.

**[Dear gourmet,** **  
** **Do you really want to know? What do you think?**

**Oh, I see, your friends told you that we don’t meet because I am**

  1. **a) a capricious woman,**
  2. **b) a hesitating man?]** **  
  
**



**********************************

It was a really lovely sunday morning. Chirrut put his fingers in the crook of Baze’s elbow and walked with a delighted face as Baze guided him along through the colourful market. He asked Baze to describe what he sees, something Baze found first difficult finally it turned out it was more fun than he’d expected. They passed from vendor to vendor chatting, Baze looking, Chirrut touching and smelling, buying some salad, cabbage, half dozen of eggs and sweet potato. 

They were strolling through florists, which didn’t grab the attention of Baze but Chirrut smelled some of them. Baze hoped he wouldn’t ask to describe the flowers because even the idea seemed impossible with all the colours and petals and everything. By good fortune Chirrut stopped in front of a stall. “I asked ‘the internet guy’ as you call him if he was a man or a woman. He knew it wasn’t me who wanted to know.” Chirrut said with a meaningful and funny face. 

“So, a he or a she?” Baze asked. 

“He didn’t tell me. See, he knew it wasn’t me who wanted to know.” 

“So he _or she_ didn’t answer the question!” pointed out Baze what made Chirrut wordless, opening and closing his mouth several time.  

“Yeeeees…,“ he explained than “...but he completely got me. That’s the point!” 

“Perhaps it’s a she, than.” he guided Chirrut’s hand back to the crook of his elbow with a gentle touch leading them back to the fruit vendors. “What can BM mean anyway? B..M...Bad manners?” Chirrut popped up his head toward the sky with a protesting sound than he lit up his bratty grin. 

“Blue mystic?” Chirrut chuckled. He asked for a half dozen of apples after sniffing them. 

“Bloody Moron?” Baze reached for his pocket. “Let me pay you these.” he said and Chirrut rose his brows but he nodded. 

 “Banana muffin?” he offered one apple to Baze who walked them to one of the high tables of the market and they bit in the apples in almost the same time. 

“Boring mails?” ha added with mouth full. 

Chirrut almost split the apple out. “You’re funny. I can’t believe it.” he muffled his smile in the apple. 

“So you think BM can be the right one? For you?” Baze asked impulsively. 

Chirrut went still even the apple stopped in mid-air. His lashes were fluttering slowly like wings of butterflies Baze noticed. _‘Since when I am as poetic?_ ’ he asked himself in the privacy of his own head. 

“I’m not as fool as I look like. I know it’s perhaps not him.” Chirrut almost whispered slowly as if words would be painful halfly turned away. “But....” his whole body shone up in an instance as he tilted his head back to Baze as he was talking musingly. “...there is a dream of someone. There is a wish for that special someone.” 

Baze stomach twisted as the truth of this sentence hit him. He just realized that for long time he had been also dreaming about that special someone. 

 

**************************************

 

Chirrut reached for Baze arm to let him lead the way. He felt the change in Baze, he acted just the opposite as he did before. In the last days he proved himself to be a wonderful cook, a caring person, stopped making nasty comments and was ready to offer a hand if Chirrut needed. Above all he was unexpectedly witty.  _ And _ he didn’t buy one thing at the market.

  
Chirrut considered as they walked. He even made a hazardous guess that Baze might attracted to him but he dropped that possibility. It was too wild. But there was that hitch of breath when they were close, that roughness in his voice when Chirrut touched him, that kindness in his words when they spoke. This change of behaviour.   
  
Chirrut knew he was still attractive. His body were toned, he liked to dress nicely, even if just black and white or jeans and he considered himself a charming chatter. He was the same as before. It was Baze who changed. Why? He didn’t know. But he had admit that he liked this new Baze. Very much indeed. 

He felt that Baze shortened his steps to be able to keep the same rhythm. He felt the warm hand as Baze patted his. “Corner and red light. We have to stop.” He felt the side of their bodies pressing together as Baze moved carefully to guide him. Sometimes he thought feeling Baze’s eyes burning on him. It felt so good. Too good to believe. He didn’t understand. 

Baze accompanied him to his frontdoor. Before opening it Chirrut turned to him and asked instinctively “Baze, can I look at you?” 

“Look at me?” he asked in confusion. 

Chirrut rose his hand. “With my fingers. May I?” 

“Oh.” came a very deep sigh. “Of course.” 

He put his bags from the market on the ground and reached out with both hands to find Baze’s chest. He let his left hand on Baze’s chest and slowly rose the other on Baze’s shoulder than to his face. Baze breath became shallow as he moved into Chirrut’s touch. 

First he felt his temple under his hairline to walk his fingers down to his eyes pausing at the smile-lines in the corner of Baze’s eyes. Chirrut closed his own to explore. He felt the well-shaped nose, the strong cheekbone to trace down his fingers to his mouth. 

Baze stopped completely breathing when Chirrut brushed his lower lip with a thumb than lost his fingers in his beard. His other hand burnt Baze’s chest and his face turned also hot under Chirrut’s palm when he raised it again past his cheeks to slide on the side to feel Baze’s hair. 

Chirrut’s expression turned into marvel as he opened his eyes when he traced along a thick strand. He had to step a tiny bit closer to ran his fingers among the waves feeling the curls and heaviness of his hair. Chirrut’s breathing became unsteady as he pushed his hand entirely in Baze’s hair to cradle his skull at the back of his head.

  
Baze sucked in breath and put his own palm on top of Chirrut’s forgotten hand on his chest. His mouth turned wet as Chirrut’s lips parted. He leaned closer to close the gap between them but in the middle of the move he saw something flicker across Chirrut’s face. He didn’t pull away but Baze felt all the muscles tightening in his body, even his hand on his nape became harder. Baze looked in Chirrut’s unseeing eyes, still open, and he found the shadow of the same fear he noticed some nights before. He was afraid if he kissed him he would ran away and never come back. 

He shifted his weight to his other leg to give space to Chirrut and asked on a deep voice that vibrated through Chirrut. “Do you like my hair?” 

Chirrut started to breath again and he let out a relieved chuckle. “I really didn’t imagine you with long hair.” He let go Baze but some of his strands clinged to his fingers as if protesting to let go.   
  


“You are too handsome for a grumpy.” he said barely audible. 

Baze grumbled something to protest, smiling and took one step back.“I’m busy in the next days.” he said goodby. “But perhaps I will eat a hot dog at the 85th street entrance of the Central Park Wednesday about seven o’clock. Sharp?” 

Chirrut considered. “Maybe I gonna take a walk. About seven o’clock, wednesday.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, no kiss...yet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little business before the romantique scene. And than everything falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> Description of violence at the end. If you don't want to read - skip the part after they begin to leave the park.

“The location of the current café was also this hard to find?” asked Bodhi after the third place they visited that day not to mention that he lost in counting how many they’ve visited in the past month. 

“No.” groaned Baze. “Actually no. I saw the place was to rent and the place itself gave the idea to open the Rogue.” he smiled at the memory. Bodhi noted that with a haw. 

“This last one was nice, but the kitchen is too big. You could feed an army from it.” 

“Too expensive to run a café. A single café would never exploit the rent.” Baze agreed. “It’s a pity because the neighbourhood is just perfect and the front matches with my expectations.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine a Rogue2 here.” Bodhi added. “Let’s check the next place!” 

“We should, yes.” said Baze but he looked back to the store front with regret.

 

*****************************

  
There was only one slice of spinach pizza with extra cheese left in the box, which had long time gone cold and none of them wanted to touch it. Cassian and Chirrut was sitting at the cosy and pleasantly cool touch dining table in the fading light of dusk. Cassian was thinking about turning the light on but he didn’t want to move and he thought that Chirrut wouldn’t care anyway. 

New York Times informed Chirrut that morning that despite all the effort they’ve put in the negotiations they chose another blogger. They were both disappointed because it seemed that the visit at the georgian restaurant was a success. As Chirrut predicted it was really a family business and they were cheerful above the average. Chirrut managed to enchant the couple as much that they invited all of them to their kitchen where Chirrut and Miss Mothma could help to prepare a traditional dessert and Chirrut gave some tips which were well accepted. Chirrut said both Miss Mothma and Mr. Graven had a great time. 

Yet they chose another blogger. It wasn’t really unexpected but Cassian saw that it really exhausted and fagged out Chirrut. His always cheerful mask fall and he looked tired. There were lines around his eyes, most of them from laughter but lot of them from stress and dejection. 

“It’s not the end of the world.” he comforted Chirrut. “You need a change, renew the blog with a fresh idea. Change is always good. We’ll figure out something. As always.” Cassian wished he knew what. 

“A change?” Chirrut nodded toward the last slice of the pizza. “Everything is as it has to be!”

 

 

*****************************

 

Baze was waiting for Chirrut at the hotdog stand. He bought the hotdogs, with mustard to himself and with ketchup to Chirrut. Baze ate his in two bites and both of them were laughing on Chirrut who put ketchup almost everywhere on his face. 

“I know a nice place nearby that offers delicious pies.” Baze offered after they finished the hotdog and cleaned Chirrut. 

“Oh, no. You spoil me in this serie of your apologies. I have to watch my figure.”    

Baze took a moment to appreciate said figure than said “There is nothing wrong with your figure.” 

Chirrut tilted his head. “That’s why I have to watch for it.” he answered with a lilt in his voice. “A coffee than?” 

“A coffee then.” offered Baze his arm and Chirrut clinged into it with familiarity holding his cane with the other hand to his chest and Baze holding Chirrut’s arm a little closer to the heat of his body.  “You have time?” Chirrut asked. 

“At the moment I’m running all over the city.” Baze considered how to put it. “I’d like to extend my business. So yes, I have a little time now.” 

“Everybody wants to extend the business. You, it would be nice if I could, and the mysterious owner of Rogue is searching for a new place.” said Chirrut marveling. 

“Really? Any trouble with your business?” Baze asked as if he didn’t knew but Chirrut just shrugged and Baze understood he didn’t want to talk about it. They took the small path leading to the park, bought coffee from a moving seller to arrive to a small bridge over one of the semi frozen canals. 

“Is there any swans or ducks?” Chirrut asked bracing his weight against the barrier of the bridge. 

“There are some swans here, preparing to sleep.” answered Baze and Chirrut looked down to the water. Baze didn’t have the heart to tell him that the swans were floating on the other side. He took in his sight, a sight of a man in a grey coat, leaning toward the water, with a smile constantly playing around his lips. A man who woke unknown tenderness in Baze. A man who seemed to be lost and in the same time a man at peace with himself.  “What would you be if you could be anything?” Baze asked from nowhere. 

“Like what?” Chirrut asked still turning to the water under the bridge not even surprised. 

“I think you could be the wind.” offered Baze. 

Chirrut slowly straightened and turned his face up to the darkling sky, a wrinkle became deeper on his forehead. “I would be rather the laugh of a child...” and after a pause he added “...or a song.” even his voice was almost singing. 

“Why?” Baze moved a little closer. 

Chirrut pulled his coat tighter. “When you laugh or sing...singing stops the fear did you know that?” he leaned back against the barrier focus away from Baze and pulling himself smaller. “And you? What would you be?” 

“I would be something definitive and complex. A planet...or the ocean.” Baze moved again closer if Chirrut was magnetic. 

Chirrut didn’t seemed to notice that Baze was almost by his side. He was lost in his mind even his voice was weightless as in a dream. “You could be a tree. That gives shelter to birds, shadow to any creature and it connects the earth and the sky.” 

The park was cold and quiet, the dark of the night was slowly settling in. A few people wandered around minding their own businesses. The only witness of their words was the water and the swans under the bridge. Neither of them seemed to be care. 

“Hey, Chirrut,” Baz called him “...look at me.”  
  
Chirrut turned toward him and flashed a happy smile. Baze ran his confident hands down Chirrut’s muscled arms and Chirrut straightened, tipped his chin up and licked his soft lips. Baze leaned forward, stopping for a moment so his breath could touch Chirrut’s face giving him time and space to step back if he wanted to. Chirrut’s expression stayed tender and waiting so Baze lifted a hand to cup his cheek. His long lashes gave a shadow to his hooded eyes and Baze bent to kiss him briefly. Sweet and soft. Baze hardly breathed as he let Chirrut’s lips part for him, tasting of coffee and himself. Baze wanted to break away but he wasn’t able to as Chirrut hummed and melted his weight against Baze’s chest, eyes flutter closed. 

Baze slided one hand to his waist to pull him closer holding him tight which made Chirrut gasp. His mouth was warm and sweet and soft again as Baze kissed him now stronger exploring slowly with deep, gentle sweeps of their tongues. It tasted saliva and heat. Chirrut slided his hands up on his arms to cling on his shoulder and push his fingers in his hair. A bubble of bright light fall on them with shining sparkles before Baze felt that he had to break away, because if they continued he he won’t have the self-control anymore to do so.

Chirrut swayed, looking woozy. He pressed his cheek to Baze’s shoulder. “Who are you, Baze? What are you doing with me?” Chirrut hummed. His whisper was warm on Baze’s throat but the words gathered chill at the base of his spine. He looked down to Chirrut but he saw his eyes were still closed, his body tense and he pressed his cheek harder to Baze’s shoulder. He still didn’t know, he was just dazed, Baze thought with a relief. _‘I have to tell him, who am I_ ’ thought Baze, ‘ _Tomorrow._ ’ he promised himself. 

The light were on when they begun to walk down the path they came from. Chirrut leant closer to him when Baze hold his hand which was in the crook of his elbow again. What a difference a kiss can make. Baze’s chest was filled with light tingles as Chirrut stepped in the same rhythm by his side, letting the control completely to him. 

Baze noticed the two men who were sitting on a bench on the side of the road only when they stepped out in front of them forcing him to stop. “Your wallets! Quickly!” ordered the closest one. 

Baze felt in the back of his mind as Chirrut winced next to him, but he already unfolded his arm and stepped between Chirrut and the two men. “Hey little punks!” his voice was sure and menacing. “Get out of our way if you don’t want to meet my fists!” 

“It’s ok, Baze.” Chirrut whispered in a shaky voice. “Just give them our money.” he pleaded. Baze didn’t listened to him, it was only two kids after all, so he stepped forward when the one who spoke before whipped out a jack knife. “Listen to your friend and give me your wallet!” he said as he waved the knife in front of Baze nose. Baze’s blood boiled in an instant and he tensed his muscles to jump on the guy when he heard a painful hiss from behind that made him spin back. 

A third man stood behind Chirrut, gripping him tightly by his chest. Chirrut breathing grew abrupt and as he tilted up his head Baze saw the glint of a blade against his throat. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> sorry guys, if you thought this will be an easy, fluffy, mushy story... It is not...  
> Discription of violence and panic attack and more violence to reveal Chirrut's tragic backstory.
> 
> I have to admit I never went thrugh a panic attack, just witnessed some - so sorry if the description is not matching.

“If I were you I wouldn’t do anything stupid!” said the man wired and tightened his grip forcing out a short wail from Chirrut. Baze went very still. He should have seen there are more of them. Baze blood was thrumming on his eardrums as Chirrut’s breathing became quicker and jagged. What a stupid idea was to come to the park after nightfall, he cursed himself. 

“Your mouth isn’t as big as before!” chuckled the first guy. “Your wallet!” he frowned on Baze. He put on his most threatening face he could manage but he took out his wallet from his inner pocket and throw it to the guy to look back to Chirrut and his aggressor. “I gave my wallet, let him go!” he was able to keep the menacing tone of his voice. 

“And where is your wallet, blind man, eh?” the third guy addressed to Chirrut with a grin. Chirrut knuckles were white where they gripped his cane otherwise completely frozen.   Chirrut was on the verge of panicking, if he wasn’t already, noted Baze.Probably the words of the attacker didn’t even reached him. 

The other two man looked around anxiously and the third man decided to give bigger emphasis to his words. He lifted up a little Chirrut pushing the blade harder to his throat which made split a drop of blood. Baze clenched his fists, powerless. “Where is your money! Show me!” he shouted in Chirrut’s ear. It seemed this dragged out Chirrut from whatever state he was. He reached with jerky moves to his back pocket and held out a small bunch of banknotes between his shaky fingers. 

The guy grabbed the money out of his hand to measure a massive kick in Chirrut’s ham pushing him on the ground. All three of them were out of sight in an instant. Baze almost jumped after them but Chirrut was on the ground battling for breath curling up in a ball. Baze kneeled down and reached  for him. “Chirrut, it’s okay now. They’re gone.” his concern was growing. “Are you hurt? Speak to me!” 

Baze never saw a panic attack before but he was sure that Chirrut is going through one. His breathing was short, shallow and loud, he pressed his hands against his chest as he was in pain. His eyes were shut and squeezed as he wanted to close out the world. Baze felt a cold, heavy ball gathering in the pit of his stomach as he watched him, trying to figure out what to do. “Chirrut…” he was slowly stroking his back. “Chirrut, I’m here. It’s okay now. Do you hear me?” He tried to unfold him from his tight-drawn position which made Chirrut groan and curl in on him even more. Baze didn’t know what to do. He sat next to him desperately feeling the cold of the ground climbing into his bones. 

Suddenly Chirrut grabbed Baze’s hand laying on his shoulder and after a ragged inhale he kept his breath in, rocking himself a little bit. Baze squeezed back his hand. “It’s ok Chirrut, they’ve gone now.” he repeated as a mantra. Chirrut let out slowly, shakily the air and started to fight to even his breath. A few moments later Baze was able to make him sit up leaning him against his chest, making Chirrut feel his slower and deeper breathing, trying to help. He guessed this is the way Chirrut is pulling himself out of the crises. 

After a  while Chirrut seemed to calm a bit, so they could stand up. Chirrut was on his feet but seemed still dizzy and almost catatonic, not giving any reply to Baze, just clinging in him like he was the last life-boat on a stormy sea. Baze guided him out of the park wrapping an arm around his waist and caught a taxi to bring them home as fast as it was possible. 

At the time they arrived, Chirrut was more or less relaxed but still hadn’t said a word. Baze fished out the key of one of his pockets and let both of them sank on the couch. 

“Chirrut, listen, I’m sorry.” Baze voice rose deep from his chest. “I was a fool, I shouldn’t have acted like I was a superman or something…” he was still holding Chirrut in his arms. “I should have just simply gave them that damned wallet…” he sighed heavily. “Most of all I shouldn’t have took you in the park at night. It’s all my fault…” 

“Don’t say that.” Chirrut sounded hoarse. He sat quietly, hands folded in his laps and his face turning away from Baze even if it was pressed against his chest. “It’s not your fault.” 

Baze reached for his hand to hold it, but Chirrut snatched it away and crossed his arms unfolding himself from the embrace still looking in the other side of the room. “Thank you for helping but I’m okay now. You can leave, if you want.”   

Baze felt the bottom of his stomach drop. “What makes you think I want to leave?...You want me to leave?” 

Chirrut pressed his lips together clenching his jaw. “You probably want to leave. It’s ok, I understand.” he almost whispered. “After all this...me acting like...like...” he faltered searching for the words. 

“This panic attack…” Baze asked gently. “...was not a solitary issue…” Baze hesitated but slowly pulled back Chirrut in his arms. When his nose pressed against his chest Baze finally lashed out the question. “Do you have it since you lost your sight?” Chirrut winced and the words stuck in the air around them. Chirrut didn’t move only the quick rise and fall of his chest showed his troubled breathing. Baze could wait. So he did. 

“I had a very different life before.” started Chirrut out of nowhere, voice muffled by the shirt of Baze . “I’ve always liked to meet new people, to get acquainted. It was always easy. I thought, back then, long term relationships are not for me.” Baze held his breath in. 

“We met in a bar. He was handsome, good looking. And funny. We had some drink, then I offered to go up to my place. He accepted.” Chirrut tightened his grip on his own arm. 

“It was a warm, summer night, so we took a walk along the way.” there was a long silence and Baze could almost feel the grief spreading out of him. 

“When we arrived, he gave me a long and deep kiss at the door. I heard the elevator coming, but I didn’t pay attention.” Chirrut breathing became loud but shallow again. “I should have.” Baze felt a heavy pain gathering in him. 

“I found my keys, opened the door and stepped in. When I turned back to invite him in there was two other guys behind him. One of them with a baseball bat.” Chirrut kept a pause to gather himself. His voice echoed in the quiet of the room. “For a moment I didn’t understand what was going on. They all came in and he shut the door.” his voice turned into whisper. Baze swallowed hard and clutched his fists without being able to do anything about it. 

“You know what he said?” No. Baze didn’t know what he said. He knew only one thing. If the guy was in his hands now, he would squeeze him until the last drop of air was pressed out of his body. “He said: ‘ _ You seem to be a nice guy. Don’ take it personal, my brown-eyed. _ ” Baze didn’t hear anything else just the miserable sounds stucked in Chirrut’s throat. His grip tightened briefly on Chirrut’s shoulder.

 “I remember only one hit.” he inhaled sharply and touched the left side of his head. “Probably there was more.” Chirrut started to shiver and Baze wished he could take the pain away from him. 

“The doctors told I was lucky. If the ambulance had arrived a few minutes later, I would not survive, they said. So I just lost my sight. Nerve injury.” Chirrut buried his face in his hands, curling in on himself again. 

“It seems they got pity on me. After they swept out the flat they called 901 and left the door open.” Baze didn’t know if the sound, Chirrut made, was a laugh or a sob. 

“The assurance didn’t pay a dime as it was me who let them in. The surgeries ate up almost everything I had. After the second one they said it wasn’t worth to do more.” Chirrut gasped and stiffened. Baze held him stronger pressing his mouth into his short hair. Chirrut didn’t resisted just melt in the hug for a long time. Baze didn’t know how many minutes have passed till Chirrut breathing eased. 

Baze ran his thumb through his jaw. “Chirrut, open your eyes!” he asked. 

Chirrut groaned. “It doesn’t make any difference for me, I have to inform you.” 

Baze let out a small chuckle against his hair and tipped Chirrut’s chin up. “It does for me.”  A faint light slipped on his eyes as he opened them, sweeping slowly with his long lashes. “Your eyes are blue now.” bent Baze over his lips. “And they are beautiful!” he whispered the last words in his mouth as they melted together. Chirrut’s kiss was warm, sweet. He pushed himself closer and the kiss suddenly turned hot and hungry. Baze kissed back with an urgency making him a little dizzy. 

Chirrut broke the kiss to press his mouth to the smooth skin under his beard and murmured something Baze couldn’t understand as shivers went through his body. Chirrut smoothed every part of Baze he could reach, his chest, his back and his thighs while he was sucking and nibbling along the column of his throat between ragged words Baze could finally catch. “Baze, make me feel good!” 

He grabbed Baze’s shoulder and pushed his weight on them to straddle in his lap. “Please, Baze!” Chirrut pleaded as he slipped a hand down to feel him already hardening. “I know you want  this!” 

Baze sat back enough to drag Chirrut’s pullover up and off. Bare to the waist, Chirrut was more beautiful, the sight of his abdomen made Baze’s mouth wet. A moan curled up from Chirrut as Baze splayed a hand over his side, pressing them until he felt the slight bend of ribs under his touch. “Baze, make me feel good! ” Chirrut murmured the words in his mouth deepening the kiss. 

 He savored every hitch of Chirrut’s breath, the way his hands glided under his shirt pressing against his skin, how he didn’t even seem aware of his murmurs as Baze delved inside his mouth in hard, rhythmic sweeps, his hips rolling, pushing body against body. 

In the middle of the exploring touches a cold feeling crawled in the back of his head as Chirrut slid his hands around to cup his face to pull him closer. A bad presentiment filled Baze. Something was wrong. 

Chirrut shifted his weight and bent to lick a quick stripe on his collarbone repeating his words as a chant. “Please, make me feel good!” As Baze cleared his head despite of the maddening little bites of Chirrut’s teeth he felt that Chirrut’s body was shivering, his fingers was numb as he struggled with the buttons of Baze’s shirt. His face wasn’t tender and painted with lust but was firm and determined.

 

Chirrut gave up the fight with the buttons, and pushed his fingers in his hair gripping a thick strand pulling it back hard to make his head lift and could let his tongue deeper inside of his mouth. A shiver went all the way through Baze’s body and he made a deep groan in Chirrut mouth. “Make me feel good, Baze!” Chirrut whispered as a reply to the vibration flowing down on his spine. He found the way to slide his palm under Baze shirt. Baze lifted his hand from his waist, cupping Chirrut’s face, tracing a hand down his jaw, as a ball of delicious agony grew in the pit of his stomach. 

He almost forget his bad feeling when Chirrut whispered again as he nibbled his ear. “Make me feel good...please...make me forget all this!” The pressure of sweet pleasure blowed up behind his eyes and disappeared as he suddenly understood what was wrong. He cupped Chirrut’s face with both hands and lifted up. “Chirrut...stop!” he said gasping for air. Chirrut hissed but reached for his face. “Baze, if I please you just a little, make me feel good! You want this too…” he exhaled the words against his palm. Baze let his hands slide down to Chirrut’s shoulders to the devouring feeling. “Make me forget! You won’t regret it, I promise!” he purred as he sucked in Baze’s lower lip. 

Baze needed all his self-control to shake down the pleasure embracing him because of Chirrut’s close presence. He firmed his grip on Chirrut’s shoulder and stopped him to lean closer. “Chirrut, is that really what you want?” he asked. “Will that really make you forget?” 

Chirrut face turned into dismay and he reached to his face, to his chest with shaky fingers and pleaded. “Please, just do it.“ He took a hitching breath. “Just...do it.” 

Baze sat up holding Chirrut tight. “Chirrut, there is nothing else I wish to do more. But I need to know if you really want this.” Chirrut’s fingers stopped where they were and digged into his skin through the fabric of the shirt. His lips were moving, as though he wanted to say something while holding it back at the same time. Baze holded him strongly until his fingers loosened, all the force poured out of his muscle and let his weight lean against Baze. He carefully wrapped his arms around Chirrut’s body and cradled him gently, holding him tight.

 Later, when Chirrut fall asleep on his chest, Baze carried him to his bed and returned to the living room to sleep on the couch. He couldn’t left Chirrut alone.

 

****************************************

 

When he woke up in last night’s clothes, Chirrut didn’t remember how he made it to bed. Baze must have helped him. He heard metal clanging on metal, plastic rustling and a crackling sound before he smelled frying bacon. Baze was making breakfast. 

Chirrut stepped out from the bedroom with sleepy face as creased as his clothes. 

“Hey, good morning.” Baze’s voice rumbled out from the depth of his chest. “You slept for long. I was worried.” 

Chirrut’s face split open with a toothy smile. “Sorry, for ruining your evening.” 

“Hush.” he heard Baze coming closer and felt his big hands as he held him in his arms.  Chirrut leaned in the lazy and gentle kiss. “I couldn’t stop myself to use your knife sets.” 

Chirrut grinned happily and buried his head in Baze’s shoulder feeling the muscles under his forehead. “Thank you for being there for me...and saving me from myself.” He felt relief when Baze didn’t stopped holding him and cupped his head to draw lines in his hair. 

“Can I leave you alone?” Baze asked and Chirrut nodded against his chest. “I have to go now. Eat and rest.” he ordered. “Are you coming to the Organa twins birthday this afternoon?” Chirrut nodded again with a smile.”I’ll pick you up at five.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of tacos that gives new ideas.

“What’s that scar you have?” Cassian leaned closer to take a better look but Chirrut adjusted his scarf on his neck. 

“I cut myself while shaving.” he said with a toothy grin and waved. 

“You use an electric razor, Chirrut.” frowned at him Cassian. 

Chirrut just shrugged. “Still..can you believe it? I’m clumsy.” Chirrut knew that Cassian knew there was something wrong and he highly appreciated he didn’t force it too much. They were sitting in a small mexican restaurant in Staten Island over two horrible tacos. It tasted so disappointing that Chirrut asked Cassian not to take any photo and he dropped the idea of writing anything about the place. It was that bad. 

“Your tacos are much better.” said Cassian with a sigh. “You remember when we were chasing “real” panela cheese for days?” Chirrut smiled on the memory. “We ended up at that old lady. The adresse we got at one of the market in Queens?” 

Chirrut laughed. “I remember. She didn’t speak a word in english. We repeated hundred times ‘panela cheese, panela cheese’. Than we googled it in spanish and finally she understood: ‘queso panela’!” 

Cassian pushed away his plate laughing open mouth. “I didn’t tell you but she had only one tooth...but that was the best cheese I ever tasted.” 

“I don’t want to know where she got it from.” agreed Chirrut when he finished laughing. “It was a good tacos I made.” he tilted his head as he heard Cassian suddenly turning into quiet.

 “Chirrut, I have an idea.” he almost whispered. Chirrut rose his brows and turned his right ear to him. “You should make a cookbook!” 

“A cookbook?” repeated Chirrut not getting the idea. 

“Yeah. A cookbook. With your receipt, pictures of the food, with you going to your fav market and things like that.” Cassian saw Chirrut’s puzzled face. “You have more than three hundred thousand followers. We can surely sell them some. How come we didn’t think about that before?” Chirrut pushed his tacos away to listen better.

 

***********************************************

 

**[Hey bmrogueone,**  

**People always say that change is a good thing and you have to learn how to continue and find the benefits of it. But they say this when they want to comfort you because something happened that you didn’t want to happen at all.**  

**I’m really running out of money now. I hesitated too much and NYT found another blogger who will happily do as they want. Did I told you that?**

**There has to be a change soon. Everything is as it has to be. Some foolish people say this, I know, because this is what I’m always saying. But the truth is that I’m terribly afraid what this change will bring. How can I make it right, I wonder?]**


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday party and secrets are revealed.

Baze was happy they were invited only to the second half of the birthday party, when all the kids were already fagged out and gathered together in a room eating incredible amounts of sweets and candies. 

Probably if it wasn’t an occasion to meet with Chirrut he wouldn’t have come at all or would just pop in for say hello. Now he struggled to make conversation with complete strangers and all the neighbours just to be able to take not too secretive glances on Chirrut. He was standing in black jeans and a slim, white shirt in the middle of a small crowd, of course, chatting and laughing airily. 

He turned in Baze’s direction as if he felt his gaze on him and broke from the circle of people with an excuse. Baze went to meet him in half way and took his outreached hand. They had only a moment together when Breha, the mother of the twins, overruned them. 

“You two had found each other very quickly!” she chirped. “Everybody is speaking of you, and I can tell you, Baze darling, all the girls and some boys are jealous of you!” 

Chirrut chuckled and leaned closer to Breha. “You know, my dearest, there is nothing to be jealous of…yet.” and he put on his smile he kept only for women. Breha let out a little yelp of amusement and tapped Chirrut lightly. “Oh, you…! Now, come on let’s have a chat and tell me everything! I’m hungry for some gossip.” She took out the glass from Chirrut’s hand and gave it to Baze. “Baze darling, find him something to drink! No hurry, take your time!” Baze rolled his eyes as he watched as Breha tugged with her the laughing Chirrut. 

“Now, tell me! This Baze is really hot, but I never imagined…” said Breha as a question. 

Chirrut let his chin to his chest smiling then he looked up. “There is really nothing to tell. We just, you know...getting started.” 

“Oh, don’t be shy my little darling! I won’t tell it anyone.” she winked and didn’t care Chirrut couldn’t see it. “You are a really good match, I think. You, with your gastro blog, and Baze, with his café!”

 “Baze has a café?” raised Chirrut his brow surprised. 

“Of course! Don’t tell me you didn’t know it! In downtown...with some odd name...like Daredevill...no, that’s too long...Recless...no! Ah, it’s on my tongue…” 

“Rogue.” said Chirrut dryly and he felt his limbs go numb and a heavy weight sit on his chest making breathing almost impossible. 

“That’s it. You see, you know it...where are you going? Ah, aren’t they a lovely couple?” 

Baze wanted to get rid of all the chat he had to do so he decided to look around at the buffet table. He was hesitating between the sandwiches and the meatballs when Chirrut suddenly materialised at his side. “Oh, here you are? Managed to escape from Breha? Are you hungry? Meatballs looks temp…” 

“What’s your name?” cut him Chirrut in a very neutral tone. 

“What?” Baze didn’t understand at first but the words slowly settled down in his mind before Chirrut repeated them articulating.

 “What. Is. Your. Name.” 

Baze looked up and saw Chirrut’s lips shaking. ‘ _Fuck_.’ that was the only thing he could think of. ‘ _Fuckfuckfuckfukfuck! Fuck_.’  

“You know my name. It’s Baze.” he pressed out from his chest. 

“Your full name!” urged Chirrut. His knuckles were white on his cane. 

Baze closed his eyes and swallowed. “It’s Malbus...Baze Malbus.” and he opened his eyes. 

Chirrut breathing broke, became ragged and shallow. “Baze Malbus. BM.” He whispered backing away. “BMRogueone. It’s you. I should have known.” he stopped to raise his eyes directly to look in Baze’s own, it seemed. His face was whiter than his shirt. 

“Chirrut…” stammered Baze reaching out for him but he was already too far to catch. “Chirrut...I...I can explain…” 

“I hope you had lot of fun.” Chirrut spat out bitterly. He turned abruptly to find his way to the door, stumbling upon the guests and jamming his cane in legs. Baze jumped after him, but Breha’s arms stopped him.

“What’s happening?” he struggled to not to draw off Breha’s hands too roughly and he throw himself out the entrance to follow Chirrut. “Look at them. They’re already quarreling like old couples!” Breha’s words flew after him. The worry in her voice muffled in the titter of the guests.

This few second, Baze was held up by Breha, was enough to Chirrut to reach the elevator and Baze could only see the closing doors. He wasn’t fast enough to reach it. Instead of wasting time waiting for the elevator to return he chose the stairs taking them by two or three. 

He rushed out to the street looking around to see Chirrut’s bright white shirt turn in the next corner with quick and sure steps. He scud after him but when he took the corner he couldn’t see him anymore. He ran up and down the nearby streets but he completely lost track. Chirrut disappeared in the frozen, winter streets of New York.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quest in the cold and colder feelings.

Half an hour later Baze felt freezing to death as he searched for Chirrut just as he was, in a shirt. He had to return to grab his coat. He opened the door of his apartment when Breha appeared in their door with the noises of the party behind her. “Did you find him?” she asked. 

“Not yet.” groaned Baze. “I had to come back for my coat.” he confessed. 

“Oh.” stepped Breha out to the corridor. “Perhaps you missed him and he came back.” she guessed. 

It didn’t cross Baze’s mind but it was a possibility. “Could you knock on his door?” he pleaded Breha. “I’m afraid that he wouldn’t answer to me.” 

Breha observed him with an unapproving expression but started to ring the bell and knock Chirrut’s door with Baze standing next to her eagerly. “Chirrut darling, are you there? Open the door for me.” she repeated several times. Some guests came out from the party with curious eyes but Baze couldn’t care less. “Just tell me you’re ok and I leave you alone.” after a few minutes she gave up. Chirrut wasn’t at home. 

Baze  turned tail, picked up his coat ignoring totally Breha’s questioning and rushed back to the streets. ‘ _He could be far away now_ ’ Baze thought desperately. He could better concentrate, he wasn’t freezing. He realized that Chirrut ran away, like him, wearing no more but a shirt. Baze looked in every possible place Chirrut could go, pubs, restaurants, little shops still open despite the late hour and continued to scan the streets. 

After another hour he was half mad of worry and cursing himself for being such an idiot not to tell Chirrut who he was, when he finally spotted out a slim figure. There, ten corners away from their apartment, sitting on a bench and curled up in himself, was Chirrut. Baze quickened his steps.   


“Here you are! I was searching for you everywhere.” he said with relief when he reached him. 

Chirrut turned away on the bench and spoke in the opposite direction. “Leave me alone!” 

“Chirrut...” Baze stared at him trying desperately to get closer. 

Chirrut jumped up and started down the street but Baze was in his heels. “Leave me alone! Go away!” he said louder this time. “Please just…” His voice tapered back down almost to a whisper. “Leave me alone.” Chirrut was quivering  uncontrollably holding his body with one arm and tapping the cane on the pavement with the other one. Baze could hear his chattering teeth and the involuntary little hiccups with the force of his tremors. 

“Chirrut, let me explain. At the beginning...I didn’t know it’s you, I swear. I realised it only at that stupid Muffin Coffé...” Chirrut hissed and changed his direction to walk back where they came from. Baze followed him. “And I really fucked it up there. I didn’t know what to do. How to tell you.”

  “I don’t need your pity!” said Chirrut. He found the corner of a building with the cane and turned in. 

“Where are you going? It’s a dead end. It doesn’t lead anywhere.” Chirrut halted then stepped back to the street tilting his head, listening to orient himself. Confusion flickered through his face, he stiffened and just stood there crossing his arm around his body struggling to stop the shivers.   


‘ _He has not the slightest idea where we are._ ’ The recognition hit Baze like a bolt of lightning, hitting in the chest and spreading out to his limbs. His entire body felt hollow and cold in its wake. Chirrut rushed out onto the streets to crawl around in circles because of him. He put Chirrut in this vulnerable situation. He failed that small crumb of trust Chirrut gave him. 

“You are freezing.” Baze unzipped his coat, took it down and placed it on Chirrut’s shoulder. Chirrut wanted to push it away, to step aside, but the coat was warm, radiating the body heat of Baze and it was too tempting. Chirrut let Baze to help him slip his arms in the sleeves, to zip it. It was too big for Chirrut, but it kept him warm. 

Baze enfolded him with his arms and guided him along the way home. Chirrut, who Baze expected to protest, had curled quietly against his side. Surrendered and exhausted from the cold Chirrut just clung to him. Baze was overwhelmed as much he wanted to protect and shelter this man. 

The road didn’t took long but Chirrut was still quivering when they arrived to his apartment. “You need a hot shower.” Baze offered to Chirrut but he shook his head. Baze guided him to the couch, helped him take down the coat and wrapped him in a blanket he found on the armrest. “I make you a tea at least.” Baze said in a firm tone. 

When he he returned from the kitchen Chirrut was curled up almost in a ball, arms holding his knees pulled to his chest, pressed against the back of the couch. Baze put the mug on the table. “It’s still hot.” he explained and hesitantly sat next to Chirrut keeping a little distance. “I am sorry.” 

Chirrut pulled tighter the blanket around him. “I don’t understand why didn’t you tell me...in the café.” He blinked. His voice was dry and emotionless. “I thought…” with a small shake of his head he dropped the idea. “I almost believed…” he didn’t finish and kept a heavy silence. “I presumed too much...” he finished almost inaudible. 

“Chirrut, please…” Baze searched for words but Chirrut didn’t let him finish. 

“I need…” Baze waited. Whatever Chirrut needed, he was ready to give. “I need...I need you to go.” He nodded without a word, even he knew Chirrut couldn’t see it. The couch shifted as he stood up and his steps were heavy on the floor as he walked out and shut the door silently behind him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I added a chapter. Hope you don't mind.

The sunlight was warm against his skin. Not as warm as it would be outside, but he could still feel it. He tried to recall the dazzling light spheres as he would have seen if he could look into the sun. Chirrut couldn’t tell it anymore if it was a real memory or just his imagination.

He still didn’t understand Baze. He didn’t know whether he was angry, sad or just disappointed. Or all the three.  A heavy feeling in the pit of his mind wondered whether he brought this on himself. He immediately tamped the feeling down. It was selfish to think that a bigger force, a bigger thing than himself would punish. He is not as important and it doesn’t work like that. Everything has a purpose. Chirrut still couldn’t help wondering. Why did Baze do it? He acted so protective. Was the kiss real? Baze was searching for him last night. Because he cared or becouse he just felt guilty? Or worse, pity. Why didn’t he see what is going on?

‘ _ Everything is as it has to be _ .’ he thought before the feeling crawled back and choked him.

“Chirrut, are you listening?” Cassian’s voice started him. It was obvious that he wasn’t.

“Yes.” he said fixing the thick scarf around his neck. He was wearing his favorite, warm and comfortable pullover under it. It was a little too big, but at least he could wrap it around himself and he loved the feeling. “Uhm. Can we postpone this meeting?” Chirrut asked gently. It didn’t worth pretending he can pay attention.

“Of course.” Cassian leaned back on his chair with a heavy sigh. “Chirrut…” he started. “Can I help you with anything? You look terrible in these last days…And where did you get this awful cold?” when no answer came from Chirrut just an empty gaze toward the sunlight he asked. “Is everything alright?”

“No.” admitted Chirrut. “But there is nothing you can do. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine.”

He felt Cassian’s eyes heavy on his face, so he reached out for him and lit up a smile. He hoped that he could manage a reassuring one, but wasn’t sure. Cassian squeezed back his hand and closed his laptop. So, he thought, the smile was encouraging enough.

“Before I forgot,” turned back Cassian from the door. “I called Miss Mothma with the idea of a cookbook or some way of sharing receipts. Perhaps that will make them rethink or will give new ideas, at least. If not, we can still do it on our own.”

“Ok, let’s see what she says.”  followed him Chirrut to close the door. 

 

********************************

 

The kettle whistled with a sharp hiss. Chirrut poured the hot water on the herbs and felt the inviting steam flowing to his cheek. The scent of orange filled his senses. His favorite, he smiled.

He sat back at the table to quickly go through his messages than start to make a list of possible receipts he would share. Chirrut liked very much Cassian’s idea about that. He was thinking about that since and he decided he will find ideas for receipts with only four ingredient. That would be fun and easy in the same time. He was smiling to himself  sipping the tea.

He instructed the computer to open the personal messages of the blog and he freezed. There was a message from @bmrogueone. From Baze.

 

**[Dear gourmet,**

**I know I don’t have any right to write you, but I do it anyway, hoping that you will read it.**

**I can’t explain, even to myself, why did I chose this way.**

**When I saw in the café that @gourmet is you, I didn’t understand how can it be. You were so different in your mails than face to face. Later I realised that it was all because of me, because of my behaviour towards you.**

**I decided to get to know you better and let you know me better. I thought I would reveal myself later and we would laugh at it and it would be a good story to tell.**

**I was a fool and** **_blind_ ** **.**

**Please, believe me, everything that has happened between us, all I said was true. My feelings are true.**

**Perhaps it is a lot to ask, but I still hope that you can forgive me.**

**I will wait for you sunday evening at seven at the Muffin Café. I beg you to come, even it is just to yell on me.**

**Baze, your unbearable neighbour]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overloaded so next chap only at the weekend.  
> Stay tuned until.  
> You can ask an alerte after every update. ;-)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock-knock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dears, I know it took too long (an eternety really). But here it is, the next chap!  
> Enjoy.

Baze was struggling to concentrate on the paperwork. Bookkeeping and taxes were never his favorite but that evening his thoughts were absolutely  elsewhere. As the night progressed the same question popped in his mind again and again  ‘ _ Will he come tomorrow? _ ’. He rubbed his face and stood up to find something to drink. Suddenly the doorbell rang, and Baze jumped at the door before the sound ceased. Chirrut stood there, arms crossed before his chest, in his oversized pullover, which Baze found still horrible but lovely at the same time.

“It’s ridiculous, Baze.” he sounded exhausted and raucous. There were dark circles under his eyes and his nose was red. “Your mail is ridiculous.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Baze bowed his head a little, still keeping his eyes on Chirrut.

Chirrut tilted his head. “You live five meters from me.” he continued sulking. “Why did you wrote to me?”

Baze didn’t answered immediately trying to understand the words forming in his head. “The thing is, I love you.”

“What?” snapped Chirrut.

“I love you.” it was a stubborn thing to repeat the words, but Baze repeated them anyway.

Chirrut just shook his head than looked up again, somewhere inside the flat. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

“I asked you to come to the Muffin café, because I thought we could start it over …” Baze felt uneasy. He’d ruined a good thing. What can he do or say to repair it? “Could you just forgive me?”

“We can’t just start it over. How could we? You can’t just write to me like that …” his face changed so quickly between emotions it was hard to follow. “...and tell me you love me... and expect _ that _ to make it all right. It just doesn’t work that way…”

Baze wished Chirrut to believe him. So much he wished. “So how does it work?” he stepped closer and Chirrut stepped back like a frightened child.

“I don’t know, but not like this…” he whispered and pulled himself smaller.

“How about this?” Baze reached for his hand. Chirrut resisted a bit, but eventually he let Baze pull him closer. “I love the way you taste the food and make those stupid sounds while chewing. I love when you hook your hand in my elbow.  I love your little crinkle between your eyes when you’re angry at me… “ Baze closed his arms around him to hold him tight. “...right now. I love your smile that is bigger  than your face. And I love the way you look at me, without seeing me, and yet...you can still see me.”

Chirrut’s expression softened and almost turned to a smile, but after the last words he pushed himself away, but just a little bit. “Oh, here we are again!” he shook his head. “You say things like that and it’s hard for me to not to love you back. And I’m really afraid to love you back...”

Baze heart beated so strong that it nearly stretched his chest, while a wonderful, sweet feeling passed through him that made his knees week. “Don’t be afraid. I will keep telling these things until it will be impossible for you to not to love me!” he whispered against Chirrut’s cheek and bent down to Chirrut’s waiting lips. Baze mouth tasted as warm relief. Sweet and soft. Surrender and victory.

That night they made love for the first time. It couldn’t be more perfect than anything they could dream of. Caring, passionate and settling. Chirrut knew he could never get enough of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, those two. Isn't they're sweeeet?
> 
> One more chap for th eepilogue.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

_ Two years later _

  
  


Bodhi was holding up a big plate of cookies. “This one goes in the middle? Or the other one?” he asked from Baze who just brought in the last plate from the refrigerator van and maneuvered between the chairs Cassian was arranging with the manager of the bookshop.

The traffic was heavy, he thought he couldn’t arrive in time. Actually he take off belated as it was a busy morning in Rogue. Christmas was coming and besides the cakes for Chirrut they had to to prepare the extra dose as all the cafés were full. All the five Rogue.

To open more cafés was Chirrut’s idea. Baze was complaining to him that he couldn’t find a good place for Rogue2, however he found a nice place but the kitchen was too big. Chirrut said he should rent it, than find a few other places without any kitchen and he can serve then from the big one. It worked brilliantly, in particular Baze made Bodhi his right and Keyto his, well, left hand. It worked as brilliantly that Bodhi said they could try the franchise. But that can wait, this is Chirrut’s day.

“The raspberry pavlova nests go in the middle.” he replied to Bodhi putting down the plate. “Always the colorful in the middle!”

“Ok, ok, don’t worry, I got this.” Bodhi smiled at him. “Any news from Chirrut?”

“His cab is stucked somewhere.” Baze shrugged.

“The fans are already here.“ Bodhi finished the arrangement. “I’m glad Keyto stayed at Rogue. We could listen to his endless litany of the chances that Chirrut won’t make it in time.” Baze just smiled under his beard.

At ten o’clock the shop opened the gates and the guests who arrived to the book launch invaded every corner. There wasn’t much space left although it was one of the biggest bookshops in New York. Chirrut’s first book, Easy4eat, was a success on his blog, and one of the editor’s company noticed and brought it. It became a bestseller. The idea for the launch party of the second book, Cookie4two, was that the fans can make a photo with Chirrut after a small chat.

Cassian was a little nervous, because to make a photo with Chirrut, he had to be there, but there was no sign of him. Before Cassian could turn into hysterical, the crowd started to move and laughter approached led by Chirrut's voice. Cassian sighed with relief then suddenly groaned when he saw Chirrut's outfit. “Baze!”

“I swear it wasn’t me!”  answered Baze rubbing his face trying to hide his amusement in front of Cassian when Chirrut grinned at them. He wore blue jeans, a short leather jacket and a simple white T-shirt with the deepest V-collar Baze has ever seen.   
  


 

**********************************

 

A small part of the city spread out in front of Baze’s bedroom window, still asleep in the early morning sun. The room was cool when Chirrut slipped out from the covers and from Baze’s body heat but the rays on his bare flesh gave him warmth. The bed stirred and the sheet ruffled. Baze stepped quietly behind to join him.

“It’s beautiful.” Chirrut said as Baze wrapped him in his arms and pressed small kisses at the crook of his neck than on his shoulder. Chirrut felt desire rise in him in small, delicate waves as Baze’s fingers traced his skin along his belly. He wished Baze’s hair to fall on it as he kisses his way down. “I’m glad I moved in.” he continued as he clang on Baze’s wrist with a sigh. “Through your window the view is much better.”

Baze laughed air in his ear. “Just for the view?” he asked as he reached down to cup him.

“Of course. What do you think for what else?” he moaned as he melted against Baze’s chest as he was stroked. He turned his face to Baze, lips parted and wet asking for a kiss. Baze bent down just a little to run his tongue on his lips than kiss him slowly, patiently. There was no rush. They already left behind all the desperation and drama, all it left was love, joy and passion. When they parted after a long time, Chirrut curled against Baze’s body and they listened together the Upper West Side waking up slowly .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me and reading (despite teh late update).
> 
> If you like it pls leave kudos.  
> And to give comment is love. <3.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls tell me how you like it.  
> I live for Kudos and comments... :-)


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